


wicked games

by Loubrator



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, BDSM, Bottom Bucky Barnes, Businessman Steve Rogers, Dom Steve Rogers, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Happy Ending, Homophobia, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Prostitute Bucky Barnes, Sub Bucky Barnes, Tony Stark Is a Good Bro, Top Steve Rogers, bucky's parents suck in this fic I'm sorry, or at least trying to be, steve is a little mean here and there but hes still a good guy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:54:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 53,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25464304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loubrator/pseuds/Loubrator
Summary: “You reckon you’ll be any good at babysitting?”Bucky frowns. “What?”“Babysitting,” Tony repeats, rising from his seat and walking over to the younger man, “just… not a baby. How about babysitting … Steve?”...or, Steve is an engineer at Stark Industries who's straight up not having a good time and Bucky is the hooker turned personal assistant who's supposed to make it all better.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Jack Rollins, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Jane Foster/Thor, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Peggy Carter/Steve Rogers, but only mentioned - Relationship, but they're divorced
Comments: 53
Kudos: 201





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> so after a three and a half year long hiatus, I'm finally back with my very first Stucky!!!
> 
> I do apologize.
> 
> this is probably the most self indulgent thing I've ever written, and I'll try to update regularly (I swear).
> 
> a huge thank you goes out to Teddy, who holds my hand throughout the writing process and always listens to me ramble on and on about the plot. I owe you one.
> 
> all errors and mistakes are mine, English is not my first language so I do ask you to bear with me, and the title is taken from the song by The Weeknd.
> 
> kudos and comments are forever appreciated!!

Steve steps into the elevator with a deep frown on his face, shoulders squared, ready for a _fight_.

“Tony’s floor, please.”

“Of course, Sir,” Jarvis replies, and the elevator starts going up.

Steve has had a good day so far, a fantastic day, in fact. He woke up bright and early and went on his daily run, had a great shower after and used the expensive and amazing smelling wash the aesthetician at his current favorite spa recommended, he had a big breakfast and went to work with a spring in his step. He was supposed to seal a deal to start some renovations in New York, and Steve would mainly be responsible for the work on renovating hospitals around the city. Stark Industries offered the mayor their help, and of course Tony insisted on not charging the city a dime. Steve felt good about it, he was happy to be a part of something amazing. That is, until he arrived at his workplace and got told that Tony blew the deal off, without an explanation and more importantly, without consulting the project leader, Steve himself.

The loud ding signals that he has reached his destination and he prays that Tony is home, seeing as he wasn’t at the office earlier. He hopes Tony didn’t lock himself in his lab because getting him out of there to have a serious conversation would be a challenge, but Steve doubts it, it’s only three p.m. after all.

As soon as the doors open and he steps inside the spacious apartment, he wishes he wouldn’t have come at all. The scene before him is… unusual, to say the least.

Sprawled out on the big, black leather sofa is Tony, wearing a black suit and his signature sunglasses, holding a glass full of what seems to be whiskey, and his eyes are glued to the… man hanging from his ceiling. The _naked_ man hanging from his ceiling. He has ropes all around him, the part around his torso secured to a hook and making him dangle six feet above the ground. He’s turned so Steve can only see the back of his head, the strain in his shoulders, the swell of

his ass, and that is already too much. Steve stops short and doesn’t dare move a muscle when suddenly Tony’s eyes snap to him.

“Captain! Lovely to see you here,” Tony greets him excitedly, apparently very unbothered by Steve waltzing into his apartment and witnessing his… _situation_.

“Uhhh, I should- I should’ve called, I’m really sorry, I’m gonna… I’m gonna go now,” Steve stammers and is just about to turn around when Tony catches him by the elbow and brings him to a halt.

“But you just got here! Join me on the couch, let us admire my guest together, perhaps? Drink?” Tony knows damn well Steve isn’t going to say yes to that, but he’s a little shit and if there’s anything that makes Tony happy, it’s making the lives of the people around him difficult.

Now that the initial shock has worn off, Steve remembers what he came here to do. He crosses his arms and does his best to ignore Tony’s _guest_ still hanging from the damn ceiling like some kind of chandelier, from the corner of his eye he can see the poor guy has started swinging slightly. Jesus Christ.

“I’m assuming you know why I’m here,” Steve starts, watching as Tony walks over to the bar to pour himself another drink.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, don’t be a little grumpy Gus about this, Rogers. I had no say over it.”

“What do you mean you had no say? It was you who cancelled the meeting and called the deal off, the least you could do is-“

Steve shuts his mouth as soon as Tony whips around with fury in his eyes. “I did not fucking cancel anything. The hospital refuses to work with us, the mayor has decided that he will be using taxpayer money for the renovations. It was out of my control, I had nothing to do with it, and it’s not my business anymore.” He shrugs before downing the drink in one go.

“Why would he do that?” Steve doesn’t understand. Here they are, offering the city free much needed repairs on essential buildings, and they’re being turned down. Politicians are assholes, Steve thinks.

Tony looks slightly uncomfortable now, eyes darting over to the man who is _still hanging from his ceiling_. Steve needs to leave this place as soon as possible.

“Apparently Justin Hammer has something to do with it. What exactly, I don’t know. I might try to find out. Until then, stay out of this, Steve. I don’t want the press to get involved.”

Even hearing the name makes Steve’s blood boil. Justin Hammer, owner of Hammer Industries, Stark’s biggest competitor, for whatever reason. Their tech is shit, they copy everything Stark Industries makes and sell it for cheaper. They’re slowly going out of business, Steve knows, but he guesses they wanna do as much damage to Stark and his company as possible before they leave the scene. It’s pathetic.

“Fine. But I sure hope you’re gonna fix this, Tony, you know damn well we’re the best for this job, and so do they, whether they wanna admit it or not.”

Tony rolls his eyes so hard Steve fears they might get stuck in the back of his head, and languidly walks over to his companion. He looks over his shoulder at Steve and raises his eyebrows. “Last chance, Cap. Wanna stay and enjoy the show?”

Steve is out the door in seconds, not even dignifying Tony with an answer.

***

“Man, you’re so good at that,” Bucky moans as Stark massages his back with lavender oil, loosening his muscles after being suspended from the ceiling for a good minute.

“Yeah, thanks, I’ve had to acquire some healing abilities here and there, I’m prone to injuries.” Bucky doesn’t ask, he doesn’t care. “There we go,” Stark exclaims and slaps his hands on Bucky’s back, “all done. You can get dressed now, Snow Soldier.”

“Winter Soldier, thank you very much,” Bucky corrects, groaning as he lifts himself up from the couch and starts putting on his clothes that he neatly folded before the session began. He sees Stark slip a wad of cash into Bucky’s jacket pocket, “just a little extra,” the older man winks, and smiles to himself. Stark may have a shitty reputation in the media, even Bucky has gathered that much, but he’s an honest man. Not too picky, either. Every time he has booked Bucky so far he’s only been interested in tying him up in unusual ways, content

to just look at him for hours, admiring the complexity of the knots and ties around his muscular body.

“Also, my apologies for our unexpected visitor,” Bucky hears him call from the kitchen, “Steve has a tendency to barge into my humble abode every now and then. Just because I do it to him, doesn’t mean he can return the gesture. Incredibly rude, our Cap is.”

Bucky didn’t get a rude vibe from the man, but what does he know.

“It’s fine, I didn’t mind. Seemed important, he sounded stressed out.” He’s putting on his shoes and groaning as he stands, his joints cracking and knees wobbling a little, he jumps from one foot to the other to increase his blood flow.

“Oh when is he not,” Stark sighs and lets himself plop on the couch dramatically. “That’s our little Steve, always in a hurry, all work and no play.”

Bucky smirks as he counts the money in his pocket. With the little tip he just got he’s made more than a grand and a half for those five hours, not bad. He might just call it a day, he’s exhausted. “Well, sounds like he needs someone to show him how to relax. How about a recommendation?” The wink he sends Stark’s way is only half sarcastic.

Tony scoffs. “Oh please, Steve would die of embarrassment if I suggested a date with you. He’s kind of old fashioned.”

Bucky chuckles. “Suit yourself.”

Tony takes a long sip from his drink before smacking his lips and mustering Bucky in a way that would make him uncomfortable if he had any shame left.

“Is there something on my face?” Bucky asks as he shrugs his jacket on, the leather a little worn already. He’ll need to get a new one from _Diesel_.

“Nah,” Stark says, still eyeing him with a contemplative look on his face. “Say, Snowflake Warrior-“

“ _Winter Soldier_!”

“-what’s the most normal job you’ve ever had?”

Bucky furrows his eyebrows. “Why?”

“Just asking,” he shrugs and takes another sip from his glass. When he sees Bucky’s suspicious look he holds both hands up. “What, a guy can use you as a living, breathing chandelier, but can’t ask you a normal question?"

Bucky finishes putting on his watch, still eyeing Tony suspiciously, but then he sags his shoulders and lets out a deep sigh. He doesn’t usually reveal much about himself, his clients don’t even know his name, but what’s a guy like Tony fucking Stark gonna do with some irrelevant info about a nobody like Bucky Barnes?

“Worked at _Starbucks_ for a coupla months, had a gig down by the docks, after that I waited at a gentleman’s club … nothing long term, though. Got a taste for the quick money a hooker makes, and didn’t look back.” He exhales deeply, looking Stark deep into his eyes, daring him to judge Bucky. He doesn’t, though, of course he doesn’t. Tony Stark has more skeletons in his closet than anyone will ever know, Bucky assumes.

“You reckon you’ll be any good at babysitting?”

Bucky frowns. “What?”

“Babysitting,” Tony repeats, rising from his seat and walking over to the younger man, “just… not a baby. How about babystting… Steve?”

Bucky’s utterly confused. He doesn’t have time for Stark’s shenanigans. “I’m not sure I’m following.”

“Look, I know you don’t know him but I promise you, Steve is a very good guy. Good looking, too. He’s just a little uptight and needs some TLC from a young, handsome fellow like yourself, just to understand that there’s more to life than work and deadlines.”

“I thought you said Steve doesn’t like hookers,” Bucky says dumbly, and Tony lets out a sigh like he’s talking to the stupidest person in the world. Maybe he is, but he really does not understand what Stark’s getting at.

“I never said he doesn’t like them, I just said he’s a little old fashioned! And we wouldn’t be introducing you as such. You’d be playing… a character.”

“A character.” He doesn’t take kindly to people belittling his line of work, there may be a lot of folk disagreeing with his lifestyle choices because of their stupid sense of morale and self righteousness, but he’s never gonna be ashamed of the way he makes his money, he’s earning it fair and square. “So you want me to lie about who I am?”

Tony clicks his tongue. “No need to get defensive, Fighter, it would still be part of the job. You’d be something like… a personal assistant. Just for a little while, ‘til Steve pulls himself out of his funk, then you can part ways, he never has to know, and you’d walk away a wealthy man. Whatever you’re currently making an hour, I’m paying you double.”

Bucky’s jaw drops. “That’s six hundred dollars an hour.”

“Six hundred dollars an hour it is, then.”

Stark has his arms crossed, his brow furrowed, but there’s hope in his eyes. If Bucky really were to take this job he’d be playing a little role, not much different from what many other clients want from him, and he’d be getting rich while doing so. His heart is telling him _yes, yes just do it!_ , but he knows it can’t be that easy. Nothing in life is ever easy for Bucky Barnes.

“What’s the catch?”

“No catch,” Stark assures him, pointing a finger at him when he says, “you just have to be convincing. I’m gonna make up a little story, don’t worry about that, you just gotta deliver an Oscar worthy performance and we’ll be good! Y’know a little, I don’t know…” he rubs his chin, deep in thought, circling Bucky who’s starting to feel like this is some elaborate prank that Stark is pulling on him because he gets off on getting pretty young boys’ hope’s up, only to shatter them as soon as he has them hooked. Then he continues, “Bring him his favorite coffee, keep track of his appointments and meetings, offer him a shoulder to cry on. Be his friend! Yes! Steve needs a friend!”

“Does Steve not have… friends?” Bucky’s not sure if he wants to say yes to working with Steve, that dude seems like a sad, sad person.

“He does, of course he does!” Tony almost shouts, going back to his spot on the couch, “but like… y’know. Not a _friend_ friend.” He peers at Bucky over the rim

of his glass, trying to seem as innocent as possible, and Bucky doesn’t understand what- oh. _Oh!_

“You want me to _fuck_ Steve?” he exclaims, realization dawning on him. What even is this?

“Nooo… Well, not necessarily.” Tony clicks his tongue when he notices that his glass is empty again, putting it down on the living room table. He leans back and crosses his legs. “If it happens, good for you guys. It’s not a condition you have to fulfill, though. You’re both hot, I’d be delighted if you got to have sex!” His wide grin does little to not creep Bucky out.

“You’re a nutjob, Stark,” Bucky says and starts walking over to the door.

“Is that a yes?” he hears Tony yell from behind him.

Without turning around he shouts, “I’ll call you,” and with that, he’s finally outside and doesn’t have to listen to this insanity anymore.

As he’s walking to the taxi stand, he mulls his options over. He could totally say no, not get himself involved with a miserable adult man who clearly needs therapy, continue his escapades with rich businessmen who want him for a maximum of a weekend, not a _while_ \- however long that is- presumably as long as it takes Steve to “get out of his funk”, as Stark put it. But then he’d be walking away from so much money. He wouldn’t even need to be seeing any other clients. And it does seem like a relatively relaxed job. While not everyone Bucky gets booked by wants him for sex, it’s rare that good looking, genuinely charming men want solely his company. Usually it’s old people whose spouses have died and they want Bucky to fill the silence they have left, cook them dinner using family recipes, even going as far as asking him to wear a certain perfume that reminds them of their late loved one. Bucky is more than happy to oblige, but the vibe is usually… quite depressing. And with Steve, well, he might be a sad sod but it would be easier to make his time with the man a little more fun, seeing as Steve isn’t eighty years old, judging by the voice Bucky heard earlier that day.

He steps into the taxi and rattles off his address to the driver, leaning his head against the window, watching the city pass by. He loves New York, always has and always will. With a sigh he realizes that he knows what he really wants to

do, but decides to give it a few days before calling Stark. If there’s anything Bucky’s good at, it’s making rich men shake from anticipation for him, after all.

***

“Yes, will do. Thank you. Yes, thank you so much, Bruce, that was incredibly helpful. See you soon, bye.” Steve hangs up the phone with a deep sigh, rubbing his hands over his face, feeling beyond exhausted. He has volunteered to help his friend, scientist Bruce Banner, build some schools in Malaysia, where Bruce is currently living, so he’s been tirelessly working on designs to speed the process up as much as possible, so the children can benefit from it even sooner than originally planned. Steve’s main occupation is working as an engineer at Stark Industries, but seeing as he doesn’t have much of a private life, he might as well spend his spare time doing some charity work for other places. He likes to know that he can help, it makes him feel good. Nevertheless, his tendency to overload himself with work often leaves him stressed and jittery with nervous energy.

“Jarvis?”

“How can I help, Sir?” comes the voice of Jarvis, the AI program Tony has invented and insisted on installing in the living spaces of all of those he likes and trusts enough in his circle, and Steve considers himself lucky to belong to that small group of people.

“Make an appointment at Dalia’s for me, will you? The usual procedure.”

“Certainly, Mr. Rogers. Friday, one thirty pm?”

“Sounds perfect, thank you.” He gets up and walks over to the floor to ceiling windows, gazing at the cars bustling around Brooklyn. He’s always loved this part of the city, even as a kid, which is why he never wanted to leave from here. When his mother died and college started, he had to move away for a little bit, living in Queens with a former friend of his, but as soon as he could afford to move back, he did. He remembers his mother saying, “You can take the boy out of Brooklyn, but you can’t take Brooklyn out of the boy.” That turned out to be true, and here he is, in one of the largest and most expensive buildings in the area, admiring the only place he will ever call home.

He smiles fondly and decides it’s time for bed, ten thirty isn’t late but he’s had a rough week. Just as he’s about to exit his office and make his way to the bathroom, his iPhone that he left on the table starts ringing.

With a heavy sigh he reaches over and sees Tony’s name flash across the screen, clearing his throat as he answers the call.

“Hello?”

“Captain, hi! How are you doing?”

“I’m fine, thank you,” he walks into his bathroom and goes to turn the shower on, adjusting the water to a lukewarm temperature. “What’s up?”

“I’ve been missing you, buddy, you’re constantly holed up in that office of yours,” Tony says, and Steve tries suppressing a fond eyeroll. His friends like to pester him about being a workaholic, but he just can’t help it. He loves what he does and he always tries to give a hundred percent.

“I’m sorry, Tony, you know how it is,” he explains while turning the water off and going over to his cabinet, picking out his shampoo, conditioner, body scrub and his razor. He sets them all on the bench in his spacious shower cabin.

“I know, I know,” Tony says, some rustling audible through the speaker, “but I won’t be allowing it any longer. You, me, lunch tomorrow at _Porter House_?”

Steve exhales deeply and thinks for a second. If he says yes now, he’s gonna have Tony off his back for at least another two months. Awesome.

“Yeah, sounds great! About time we hung out again, huh?”

“You’re telling me,” Tony’s tone of voice is flat, and Steve almost feels bad. “I’ll tell Jarvis to put the appointment in your calendar, don’t you dare not show up!”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Steve chuckles, and with that he hangs up.

As he steps under the powerful stream and wets his entire body, he thinks about how unfair he’s been to the people closest to him. He loves Tony, Natasha, and Sam, they’re all amazing people, but he just doesn’t feel the need to share much of his personal life with others. He’s tried that once and failed terribly at it, if the two wedding bands he still keeps at the very back of his

bedside table are anything to go by, so for now he’s okay with just keeping to himself. Steve appreciates his friends trying to get him out there again, but he’s just not ready. Not yet.

He finishes his business in the shower and turns the water cold, spraying himself down one more time before stepping out and drying himself off. The exhaustion has settled deep into his bones, he tries to think of the last time he’s gotten more than a handful of hours of sleep, not a single instance comes to mind.

As he turns the lights off to finally go to sleep, he allows himself to think about how things would be now if everything hadn’t gone to shit. With a sigh, he drifts off.

***

They’ve picked a window seat, much to Steve’s liking, the view from their spot is fantastic. Tony hasn’t said much so far, just some idle chatter, but the nervous energy radiating off of him tells Steve that this isn’t going to be an ordinary lunch with his friend.

“So many options, let’s see…” Tony mumbles, and Steve scans the menu for a dish that he’s in the mood for. He settles for steak.

“Hello gentlemen, welcome to _Porter House_ , my name is Marcy and I will be your server today. Can I get you anything to drink?”

“Hello, Marcy, I think we’re gonna start off with a nice bottle of wine,” he looks over to Steve who nods enthusiastically, “yes, we will have the 1998 Cabernet, please.”

“Excellent choice,” Marcy says, scribbling the order down on her notepad.

“Then I will have the ruby and golden beef salad, the daily soup, and the petit filet mignon. Feeling rather simple today.”

After finishing her scribbling, she turns to Steve with an expecting look. He sends a tight lipped smile her way before ordering. “I’ll have the chopped salad, please, with cowboy rib steak and the baked potato on the side. Could I please have some extra parsley on that?”

“Certainly! I’ll be back with your wine shortly.” With that she whirls around and leaves, Steve smelling her strong perfume even from where he’s seated.

“Such a lovely place,” Tony comments while looking around, trying so hard to seem nonchalant, “I love coming here. Truly fantastic. Magnificent, if you will.”

Steve raises his eyebrows. “You okay, Tony?”

“Yes!” the other man exclaims, snapping out of his thought, “I’m great! How are you, Steve?”

“I’m good, you know how it is. Work is keeping me plenty busy.”

“The project with Bruce coming along nicely?”

Steve swallows a sip of water before answering. “Yes, it’s going great! I’m so excited for it all to be finished, you have no idea.”

Their food arrives shortly after and they dig in with enthusiasm, Steve’s always appreciated a nice steak and good wine. Still, he knows that Tony’s up to something, the man is one of the smartest people Steve has ever known, but he can’t lie for shit. He’s just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

When Tony’s chewing slows down and he swallows his food with a big gulp of wine, Steve knows that he doesn’t have to wait much longer.

“Steve,” Tony starts and sets his knife and fork down halfway through his meal, clasping his hands and resting his chin on them.

“Yes, Tony?” Steve answers without looking up, his cutlery clinking against the white plate as he cuts through his food, not finished yet.

“You know I love you, right?”

Steve looks up at that, watches Tony’s unwavering smile for a beat, and resumes his eating.

“So anyways, I love you very much a lot, and I’m not the only one that does. By far. Like, super duper far.” Silence. “Right. And I wanted to make a suggestion.”

He waits for Steve to say something, apparently, but the other man just keeps eating. When the silence becomes too uncomfortable, Steve sighs and looks at his friend. “’I’m listening, Tony.”

“Right!” Tony says, chuckles, takes a sip of his water, and continues, “I used to work with this guy a while back. A real nice one, very handsome, too, a true peach.” Seeing Steve’s unimpressed look, he continues, “He helped me a lot through a stressful time with Pepper, you remember when things got rough between us?” Steve nods with warmth in his eyes. “Right, so he took a huge burden off my shoulders. Work wise, and also, um… in my personal life.”

Steve’s eyebrows shoot up. He knows Tony isn’t one to open up to anyone unless he really has to, unless it’s forced out of him after years and years of friendship. Steve was someone Tony confined in a lot when his relationship with Pepper went south for a while, because if there’s one thing Steve knows about, it’s relationship issues. He’s had enough of those to last him a lifetime. Hearing that there was somebody else Tony talked to about it, presumably someone Steve doesn’t know, someone who’s not in their close circle of friends, is almost hard to believe.

“That’s good to hear, Tony. I’m glad you had support like that,” Steve says and he means it wholeheartedly.

“Thank you,” Tony says and clears his throat, taking a sip of water and sighing. “Please, Cap, don’t take this the wrong way, but I feel like you could use someone like that, too. Someone who knows what they’re doing, and can help.”

Steve’s eyes narrow immediately, defenses going up. “What’s that supposed to mean, exactly?”

“That you could use someone to free you of your many, many responsibilities, who will help you take care of yourself. So you can have more time to take care of Steve, and not everything and everyone else.”

“I do take care of myself,” Steve mumbles over the rim of his wineglass, “I have a spa appointment tomorrow. That’s plenty of selfcare.”

The other man rolls his eyes, leveling Steve with an unimpressed look. “You know exactly what I mean. You gotta take care of yourself on an emotional level, like. Where it matters most!”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Steve sighs and leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. “So let me get this straight. You want me to befriend your friend and use him as a… personal therapist?”

“More like a personal assistant, really,” Tony explains, picking up his fork again and digging into his salad, “or personal consultant, even? I don’t know, he does what he’s told and has a good ear when you need it, that’s all I’m saying. He’s helped me de-stress, and get my shit together. Maybe he can help you, too.”

“I have my shit together already!” Steve insists, not sure if he’s trying to convince Tony or himself. “Thank you for the offer, but I really don’t need a PA, not for my business and surely not for my personal life.”

“Why? You had Darcy for a while and she was lovely!”

“Yeah, but that was more because she needed a mentor, not because I needed an assistant, you know that.”

“I still think you’re full of shit,” Tony mumbles innocently through his mouthful of salad, and Steve sips on his wine.

He smacks his lips and swipes his tongue over his bottom one, repeating “Thank you, Tony, really. But I do not need, or want, a personal assistant. Or consultant, whatever you wanna call it.”

“That’s too bad,” Tony sing-songs with his glass touching his lips. “Because Stark Industries has already officially hired him, and he’s starting on Monday, eight a.m. sharp.”

Steve’s answering groan makes him chuckle.

***

“So, when do I have to be there?” Bucky asks through a mouthful of popcorn, watching Stark bustle around his bedroom, packing a suitcase.

“Be at the office at eight a.m., don’t be late, Steve hates tardiness.“

“Um, Stark?”

He stops to look at Bucky. “Yes, Frosty?”

“You’re supposed to notice my appalled expression and my jaw that is touching the floor right now. Did you say eight fuckin’ a.m.? As in, the morning?”

Stark rolls his eyes and resumes his stressed out packing. “Yes, in the damn morning, what time do you think people in offices start working? Whenever they please?”

“Well, no. But I also don’t work in the office, I’m there to help out. Bring him his lunch, around _lunchtime_ , not at eight in the morning like some maniac.” He shoves another handful of popcorn into his mouth.

“You can bring him breakfast,” Stark mumbles absentmindedly, standing in front of his mirror and holding up two ties, one black, one baby blue.

“Go with the blue one,” Bucky comments and turns so he can lay on his stomach in the middle of Stark’s humongous bed. “I bet Steve doesn’t even eat breakfast.“

“How would you know that?”

“Please,” Bucky scoffs, “businessmen are my area of expertise. Most of them don’t eat breakfast.”

Tony turns to him and smiles. “Then get him to start eating it. Most important meal of the day, or so they say. Eight a.m., Jack Frost, I’m not budging.”

Bucky throws popcorn at him.

“For the umpteenth time, it’s Winter Soldier!”

“I refuse to call you that!” Starks looks at him with a frown. “Where did you even get that popcorn from?”

“Found it in your kitchen cabinets,” Bucky smiles at him widely, earning an eyeroll from the other man.

“So, I’ve given you all the documents, everything you need to memorize, right?”

“Yes,” Bucky nods.

“Did you do your homework?”

“Yeees,” Bucky groans, rolling his eyes.

“And what name will you be going by?”

“James,” Bucky grumbles. He hates that he needed to give Stark his full name, putting his anonymity at risk, but he trusts Stark by now. He knows more about the man than he’d like to admit.

Usually, Bucky has his own protocol he likes to follow. He does thorough background checks of his clients, he asks for specific documents and information, and if they refuse to cooperate, they immediately get blacklisted. Genuine people don’t have anything to hide, they understand that it is not in Bucky’s interest to air out anybody’s dirty laundry, but that he’s purely doing it to keep himself safe. Those who are difficult to work with are suspicious, and Bucky refuses to take any risks. He hasn’t had any issues so far, he loves what he does, and he’s become quite a household name in the industry in New York City.

With Stark, though, it’s a whole other story. They’ve known each other for a while, and at this point, Stark isn’t just his usual client, and this certainly isn’t a usual gig. He trusts Tony, and by extension, he also has to treat Steve like an extension of the arrangement he has with Tony. Bucky knows that Tony wouldn’t maliciously set him up for disaster. Giving out as much of his personal info as he has, however, makes him feel queasy. He isn’t used to anyone knowing more than the bare minimum about him, and he hadn’t planned on changing that. Up until now, that is.

“James,” Stark repeats, “beautiful name. Much better than Frosty the Soldierman, anyway.”

Bucky levels him with a look. “Your jokes aren’t nearly as funny as you think.”

“I make myself laugh, that’s good enough for me.”

“What are you packing for, anyway?” Bucky sits up and watches as Tony zips his suitcase shut, putting it away in the corner of the room.

“I have a meeting in California, so I’ll be gone around three days. Which means that you and Steve will not be bothered at the office on Monday.” He wiggles

his eyebrows for emphasis and groans when the pillow Bucky threw his way hits him right in the face. “Watch it, that’s my moneymaker!”

“Moneymaker?” Bucky laughs loudly. “Isn’t that supposed to be your brain?”

“Yeah, but my face sells the crazy ideas my brain has. Duh.”

Bucky laughs again and finishes the rest of the popcorn, getting up from the bed and stepping closer to Tony.

“I’ll be there on Monday, don’t worry. And I’ll try my best to help your weird friend out.”

Stark looks like he wants to say something, but he shuts his mouth and smiles. “Thank you, Elsa. That means a lot.”

“ _Elsa_?!” Bucky yells and grabs the pillow off of the floor, following a running Tony Stark out of his bedroom, ready to make him regret his stupid jokes.

***

Steve steps into the large glass building hurriedly, phone in his right hand and suitcase in his left. He greets the lady at the entrance with a smile and gives a nod to the security guard before stepping into the elevator that takes him to the floor his office is on. He has a few meetings today and he’s not looking forward to them, they’re mostly boring and very time consuming. If he’s honest he doesn’t even know what exactly those meetings are for.

He spent all weekend working on his project with Bruice and secretly researching Hammer to see what the deal with the city restorations cancelation is, not that he’d ever tell Tony about it. Which is why he has completely forgotten to check today’s schedule and prepare accordingly. All he knows is that he’ll be having meetings and that he won’t need to dedicate a hundred percent of his attention to those, so he’s okay with being unusually sloppy today. Steve’s just human, sue him.

Right as he’s about to enter his office, he spots a figure out of the corner of his eye, standing by the floor to ceiling window and looking out into the city.

“Gorgeous view, isn’t it?” Steve speaks up when it becomes clear to him that he doesn’t seem to recognize the person.

The man turns around and smiles with a surprised expression, nodding slowly. “It’s… quite something, yes.”

Steve gives him a tight lipped smile and raises one eyebrow. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Actually, yes,” the man says and takes a step closer to Steve. “I’m looking for Captain Steve Rogers? I’m here to start my position as a personal assistant.”

Steve’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. The man is young, extremely attractive, and seemingly confident. He inwardly curses Tony for setting this whole thing up, before he extends his hand. “You’ve found him, then. Steve, nice to meet you.”

The man takes his hand and starts shaking it with a smile. “James Barnes. Likewise.”

“Well, James- is it okay if I call you James?” At James’ nod, he continues, “Good, I prefer to be on first name basis with all my personal assistants, makes things a little less awkward. Besides, I like to think I’m not that old.”

James chuckles as he follows Steve into the office. “How old are you then, if I may ask?”

Steve sets his suitcase onto his desk and opens it, pulling out some papers. “What, did you not do your research before you stepped into this building today?”

The small smile James had playing on his lips falls immediately, and he averts his gaze from Steve’s unforgiving one. _Good_ , he thinks, _I don’t need anyone in my working space who doesn’t take their job seriously._

“Well, I mean, of course I have, but I thought it polite to ask you again. Just trying to make conversation.”

Steve looks up from the papers he was stacking and raises his eyebrows before taking the documents and haphazardly stuffing them into a folder. “I don’t think Stark pays you to make conversation, James.”

To his credit, James only shrugs sheepishly. “Stark assigned many tasks for this job. Conversing is, indeed, one of them.”

A cheeky one, okay. Steve can work with that.

“I’ll tell you right now, the last thing I need is chitter chatter while I’m working. These,” he points to the papers he previously stuffed into the folder, “need to be organized by date. If you could do that, that would be lovely. I have some meetings today so I won’t be breathing down your neck, finish this task, then go take a stroll through the building, introduce yourself to some colleagues, the lot. I sadly don’t have time to show you around myself, but I’ll give you a proper tour and introduction tomorrow, okay?”

Without waiting for an answer he grabs a manila folder and heads out, rushing to his meeting. He hopes James doesn’t muck up that first- and extremely simple- task Steve gave him. If he’s being forced to put up with a PA against his will, the least he can do is to test this young man’s resilience and make it worth it. With a sigh he enters the first room and sits down. Today will be a long day.

*** 

Bucky’s not having a good time. Not even a little bit. He has rearranged the documents the way Steve asked, he took a little walk through the huge company building, he even made chit chat with Rumlow, the security guard at the entrance. Now he’s in Steve’s office, dumbly staring out the windows. He’s _bored_.

And on top of all that, he can’t keep Steve out of his damn head.

The guy is undeniably attractive, with his broad shoulders and huge hands and charming smile and kind eyes. Kind, but stern. If he thinks about it too much he’ll surely start feeling hot and bothered, he just knows it. Damn Stark for sending him on this mission.

 _Mission_ , he thinks to himself while shaking his head with a smile, _as if I’m a real soldier_.

“Something funny?” comes Steve’s voice behind him, making him whip around. The guy looks exhausted, his hair mussed and two buttons of his blazer undone.

Bucky gives him a shrug but keeps the smile on his face. “Just thinking about how excited I am to finally get to work for you. I’ve heard a lot of good things.”

“Good?” Steve asks with his eyebrows raised, walking around his desk and putting his briefcase to the side. He sits down with a heavy sigh and when he motions for Bucky to take a seat across from him, he does so wordlessly. “Tony saying good things about someone means he doesn’t like them, did ya know that?”

“That’s probably true for everyone but you, Steve,” Bucky says, and he truly does think it’s right.

Steve looks him up and down once before crossing his arms over his chest. “Alright, so. I’m not sure how much Tony has told you about this whole situation, but I do not want, or need, a personal assistant at the moment.”

“Tony did tell me that you’d say that,” Bucky chuckles and at Steve’s surprised expression, he continues, “he also told me that you’re not good at taking time for yourself and that you usually prioritize everyone and everything over your own well being, whether that be physical or psychological. Judging by the fact that you already look exhausted and still took on two more projects despite the fact that you should get off work in an hour, I think Tony’s right.” His smile doesn’t falter for a second, but he tries to keep it gentle. He’s good at coaxing men out of their shell, after all.

Steve’s gaze is intense and defensive, his mouth pulling into a snarl. “Got me all figured out, don’t you?” he asks, steel in his voice.

Bucky shrugs yet again, threading his fingers together and mustering Steve for a moment before replying. “I’m just good at reading people.”

“Huh.” Steve spins his chair around and looks out of the window, before turning back too Bucky, getting up and putting his hands on the desk between them. He leans a tiny bit closer to Bucky, a hard look in his blue eyes. “This relationship is strictly professional. Tony did tell me about your… _consultation abilities_ , but I’m not looking for a _therapist_ , thank you very much. I will email you a list of things that you will have to do on a day to day basis, and I’m doing this only to humor Tony, because he wants to do what he considers to be a favor, and I won’t disrespect him by refusing that. For the record, I do not need the help, but I won’t hesitate to put you in line should you not take this job seriously. Am I understood, James?”

Bucky’s thighs clench at Steve’s strict tone of voice, at the fact that he would _put him in line_. Jesus.

Suppressing a dirty grin, he nods solemnly.

“Of course, Steve. I understand. I apologize if my arrival has caused any inconveniences, but then again, it’s Tony’s world and we’re just living in it, isn’t that right?”

Steve visibly deflates at that and starts nodding surely, looking to the side for one long second before meeting Bucky’s eyes again. “That’s right.”

“Good!” Bucky exclaims and slaps his hands down on his thighs, “would that be all for today?”

At Steve’s curt nod, he gets up and extends his hand, smiling when Steve shakes it.

“It was a lovely first day, I’ll be seeing you tomorrow then.”

“See you tomorrow, James,” Steve says, something like hesitance audible in his otherwise confident voice.

 _Ha_ , he thinks as he’s walking out of Steve’s office, making sure to sway his hips a little more than he usually would, _can’t crack me that easily, Rogers. I’m gonna show you who exactly you’re dealing with._

God, this is going to be so much fun, he already knows it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this update took longer than planned I am so sorry! next one will be quicker, I promise :) comments and kudos are always greatly appreciated, thank you for reading!

Turns out that being Steve’s personal assistant is, in fact, not very personal at all. The guy doesn’t really talk to Bucky much, he does his tasks swiftly and with precision so that Bucky doesn’t even have a lot of work to do, and he exits the office building before Bucky can even attempt to trap him into any kind of conversation.

Bucky’s to do lists usually consist of picking up Steve’s dry cleaning, organizing stacks of papers and folders, and making coffee for seemingly endless arrays of meetings. It’s mundane, it’s boring, it’s not exactly what Bucky expected.

“I mean, you did tell me that he doesn’t have much going on, but _damn_. This is beyond pathetic,” Bucky says to Tony over the phone, taking a bite of the apple he nicked from the cafeteria.

“You don’t even know the half of it,” Tony grumbles, “told you he needs a helping hand.”

“He needs to get laid.”

“A helping hand!” Tony exclaims, making Bucky chuckle. “Do whatever it takes, so I’m not paying you for nothing.”

“You always pay me for nothing,” Bucky rolls his eyes fondly.

“Not nothing,” he hears Tony say before the older man starts yelling at the people who are stuck in traffic with him. “Tying you up and watching your pretty face is hardly nothing.”

“Whatever,” Bucky says before yelling Kobe! and throwing the finished apple into the trash can. “Gotta go now, Steve should be back any minute.”

“Kay, keep me updated, snowflake.”

Bucky growls loudly before hanging up and getting to his feet, brushing the nonexistent dust off of his clothes just in time for Steve to enter his office.

He gives Bucky a curt nod before collapsing into his large spinning chair and dragging his hands down his face in exhaustion. Bucky watches him from where he’s leaning against the armchair in the corner, silent. When he can’t take the wistful look Steve gives the city from his place at the window anymore, he speaks up.

“Everything okay, Captain?”

Steve turns his head like he forgot Bucky is in the same room as him and looks back at the New York skyline.

“This whole Hammer bullshit is really getting to me, I must admit.”

Bucky narrows his eyes. “What hammer bullshit?”

Steve rotates his chair so that he’s facing Bucky, his elbows on the table and face in his hands. “Justin Hammer from Hammer Industries. He’s really kicking our ass right now. Excuse the cursing.”

Bucky feels panic rise up in his chest. Justin Hammer. Of course he knows that name, how could he forget he and Stark are competitors?

Justin used to be one of Bucky’s most loyal clients around two years ago, up until he got married. Bucky doesn’t particularly care about the man, he just hopes their paths won’t cross thanks to Steve. It would certainly make things unnecessarily complicated.

“Ah, well, what’s he trying to do?” Bucky decides to play it cool.

Steve scoffs. “Take us down, that’s what. Tony isn’t exactly loved by the authorities in this city, despite his success. Hammer is using that to his advantage, that bastard.”

“Well, as far as I know he’s going down anyway, his company is a hot pile of garbage.”

That earns Bucky a small laugh. “Ain’t that the truth.” Steve closes his eyes and rubs them for a minute before getting up with a sigh. “But what can ya do.”

Maybe it’s because of the fact that Bucky doesn’t know Steve at all, even though he has to work with him on a daily basis, or maybe it’s because Bucky needs it himself, doesn’t matter what the reasoning behind it is, what matters is that, before he can think too much about it, Bucky blurts out, “Get drunk?”

Steve looks up at him with raised eyebrows, sitting down slowly. “Pardon me?”

“Get drunk,” Bucky repeats, getting up and walking over to Steve’s large mahogany desk, playing at nonchalant. “You asked what we can do. Well, regarding Hammer, not a lot, unfortunately. Wait it out. See what happens. In the meantime, alcohol.” He finishes his rant with an obnoxious smile plastered on his face.

Steve rewards him with yet another laugh, genuine, and Bucky sees it as a victory.

“You kind of remind me of Tony right now, y’know? That’s totally something he would say.”

Bucky smiles. “What can I say? I learned from the best.”

Steve heaves out a deep sigh before getting to his feet and slowly gathering his things. “Thank you for the offer, James, but I think it’s best if I just head home. Early day tomorrow, with the new launch and everything.”

“Oh yes, about that, Tony is planning on throwing a party on Saturday to honor the success of the new project launch. You are, of course, invited. He also told me to make sure you bring a plus one.”

Steve groans loudly and throws his head back in annoyance. Bucky has to try very hard not to burst out laughing. He even sees Steve’s cheeks flush red with embarrassment. That’s just adorable.

“I hate him sometimes,” Steve mumbles before picking up his coat and walking towards the door. With a wave he exits the office, leaving a smirking Bucky behind.

***

The first thing Steve does when he enters his home is strip naked, fill the bathtub with hot water, and step in to let the steam and warmth engulf him completely, willing his muscles to relax.

He can hear Dalia’s voice in his head, _don’t shower too hot, Captain, the hotter the water the faster you age_. He laughs a little at that, he has long ago decided to age with dignity and pride, and besides, he’s happy with the way he looks, thank you very much.

He texted Tony on his way home, asking him, politely yet sternly, not to disclose any personal information about him to James.

 _“what do you mean he’s your PA after all! But okay I get it you wanna keep the mystery alive ;)”_ was the reply, and honestly, Steve has never been good at staying mad at Tony for too long.

Still, though. The way James looked at him when he mentioned Steve bringing a plus one to Tony’s party, the way his eyes twinkled with mischief, the way he would undoubtedly make fun of Steve for having to be reminded to bring a date if only he was allowed to… it was a little uncomfortable for Steve.

He takes a deep breath and holds it while he ducks his head under water, wetting his hair and wiping the wetness out of his eyes once he emerges again.

He thinks about the suggestion James made, then. There’s no way he’d go for drinks with James, especially not now, they haven’t known each other long enough and he’d prefer if he didn’t become the new subject of gossip around Stark Industries. He has too much on his plate as it is. But he does appreciate James’ efforts at trying to become acquainted with Steve. He knows he’s not the most open person around, but he just prefers to keep his professional life separate from his personal life. There’s nothing wrong with that, right? Right?

Before he can dig himself deeper into the hole of self doubt and despair, Steve lifts himself out of the tub and starts drying his body. Best not to think too much about it, he decides.

The next day is eventful, the launch is a success as expected, the new products go on the market and people are basically falling over one another to get their hands on Stark’s new tech. Things couldn’t have gone better, really.

Steve is standing in front of his office, James informing him about his schedule for the rest of the day, when he sees Natasha approach. Natasha is a lovely coworker and one of Steve’s closest friends. She handles the international marketing at Stark’s company, and there’s nobody better suited for that job, Steve thinks. He just adores her.

Before he can greet her with a hug and a kiss on the cheek the way he usually does, James looks up at her and suddenly goes white as a sheet.

“Winter Soldier,” Natasha says, and Steve can’t even focus on what she said, distracted by the ice cold tone of her voice.

“Widow,” James mumbles, and Steve’s eyes snap to him. _What_?

“Fancy seeing you here, this doesn’t seem like the crowd you usually surround yourself with. But then again, businessmen have always been your forte, no?” Her smile is sarcastic and her eyes are deadly. What is going on here?

Steve notices that James is currently speechless, so he interjects.

“You guys know each other?”

Natasha looks at Steve for the first time since she walked over, her eyes unreadable. Typical.

“We used to work together. Years ago.”

Steve and Natasha are close, but she’s the type of person to make sure nobody gets too close. Steve doesn’t know all that much about her past before coming to work at Stark Industries.

“Funny how our paths cross again,” he hears James say, the younger man has apparently regained his voice again. You can cut the tension in the air with a knife.

“Yeah,” Natasha laughs humorlessly, “funny. Anyways, I gotta get going again. I’ll see you on Saturday, Cap.” With that she’s gone, leaving a breeze of her perfume in her wake, and Steve turns to James with a questioning look.

“What the hell was that?”

James shrugs, trying too hard to be indifferent about the encounter. “Haven’t seen her in a while, she apparently hasn’t forgotten the old inside jokes, you know how it is.” Steve doesn’t. “Plus, she’s intimidating, don’t you think?”

That startles a laugh out of Steve. “Yeah, man. She surely can be.”

He decides to drop it for now, instead focusing on what James is explaining to him. Maybe he’ll find out, sooner or later.

***

That was a fucking close call for Bucky, he knows.

What the hell is this place? Out of all the places in New York, one of the biggest cities in the world, he finds out that he has to potentially deal with not one but two people who could jeopardize his undercover mission. Yes, that is what he calls it, because Bucky is nothing if not dramatic and he does have soldier in his name after all, it’s fitting.

He’s sure Stark doesn’t even know that he and Widow used to work together at the gentleman’s club they both got their nicknames from. He has to, however, keep Tony informed on anything that happens during this little arrangement, and having to come in contact with Natasha frequently could turn out to be a huge problem. He also knows that Natasha doesn’t appreciate people snooping around in her business and telling her secrets, so he’s kind of in a sticky situation right now. Bucky isn’t too proud to admit that he’s scared of the Black Widow, she didn’t get her name for nothing, he knows what she’s capable of.

While washing his hands in the men’s bathroom and contemplating how to tell Tony about his past with Natasha without getting his dick chopped off by her in the process, he startles when she appears next to him, seemingly out of thin air.

“I think you’ve got the wrong bathroom,” he says tensely, pointedly looking down at his hands as he rinses the soap off of them.

“I’m exactly where I need to be,” she counters. She smells strongly of Chanel No 5, and when he risks a glance at her, he can see that she hasn’t changed all that much. Her red hair is still long and shining, looking silky smooth, her hands strong but fingernails manicured to perfection, her stance confident, aura almost scary. She’s as familiar as she’s always been. “What are you doing here?”

He glances at her and shrugs. “Decided to change jobs. What, you think the only talents I have is looking pretty and sucking dick? C’mon, Tasha, thought you knew me better than that.”

He can practically hear her eyeroll. “Not what I meant. You make too much money with your profession to ever be satisfied with a desk job, especially not one at Stark’s, of all places.”

“What’s wrong with Stark’s?”

“James!” she snaps, never having been one to let him bullshit his way out of anything, “Why are you here?”

He sighs and turns to the left, taking a couple paper towels and drying his hands with them. When he’s done he tosses them in the bin and turns to face her with a huff. “Maybe I’m one of Steve’s clients. Maybe he has a weird fetish

for letting people help him with his office work and having men dress up in suits and ties before he ends his day with bending them over his table and f-“

“He has no clue who you really are, stop talking shit,” she interrupts him with a glint in her eyes, enjoying having the upper hand as always, “I asked him about you a little, you know?”

His jaw snaps shut. “What the fuck did you tell him?”

She rolls her eyes yet again, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning against the wall. “Nothing of importance, relax. He doesn’t know much about me either, but that’s not surprising, keeping secrets is kind of my thing.” Bucky thinks that’s an understatement. “Told him we both used to be waiters at the same establishment, when he asked about the names, I told him it’s a silly joke we started back then. I’m not here to do you a disservice, James, but Steve is also a good friend of mine, and I wanna know what exactly you are here for. Who do you work for?”

“Stark,” he said coldly, deciding it’s best to stick the closest to the truth, “met him through some mutual friends, we got to talking about business, he offered me this job. Can’t keep hustling forever, you out of everyone should know that best.”

She squares her jaw and he can see that there’s resignation in her eyes. Jackpot.

“Fine,” she nods, her stance relaxing. “If I see or hear you do anything that’s messed up, just know I’ll make you regret it.”

He chuckles and brushes past her, walking into the hallway where he knows she’ll follow.

“Steve is a big boy, I don’t think he needs anyone to defend his honor.”

“Doesn’t mean I won’t damn well try.”

He hears her heels clack all the way to the other side of the space and exhales loudly, a weight lifting off of his chest. Good thing that’s settled, he thinks, now he just has to find Tony.

***

“Have you made the reservations like I asked you to?”

“Yes, Steve.”

“Have you picked up my suit from the dry cleaning?”

“Of course, it’s hanging in your closet already.”

“How did you get into my apartment?”

“Jarvis let me in, but he kept a close eye on me.”

“Is that so?”

“You can check.”

“Very good,” Steve exhales and turns around from where he was stirring his coffee and looking out of the floor to ceiling windows to see James lean against the door to his office. “Thank you for that.”

“No problem, Steve. Will you let me do actual work around here now?”

He can hear James’ smirk without having to look up at him, but he keeps his eyes focused on his coffee cup.

“What do you mean, you do plenty of work.”

“Yeah, but,” James pushes himself off the wall and starts walking closer, “not actual PA stuff. You won’t let me take most of the calls you get, you only let me organize meaningless bills and documents from ages ago. I wanna help, actually be helpful. Feels like you’re only assigning me tasks to keep me busy and out of your hair.”

“Well, that is kind of what I’m doing,” Steve shrugs sheepishly, hoping James won’t take it personally. When the younger man chuckles, he knows he’s in the clear.

“I know, Steve, but I’m already here, and by the looks of it, I will be for a while, so let me _help_.”

He sends a warm smile Steve’s way and he relaxes, leaning back into his chair and mustering James for a second.

He’s a good guy, really. He does what he’s told without any complaints, he’s a little clumsy with certain things and more often than not, Steve has to explain engineering terminology to him so he can organize letters and such, but he really is trying his best. On top of that he’s funny, quick witted even when Steve doesn’t give him much to work with. It reminds him a lot of his time with Darcy, who, despite having a lot of respect for Steve and his work, never let him get away with any bullshit and constantly kept him on his toes. He’s glad Tony knows him so well and picked someone he knew Steve would get along with, even if Steve does take some time to warm up to people. James seemingly doesn’t let that deter him, which is something Steve is thankful for.

And then, of course, comes his undeniable attractiveness. He’s tall, broad, muscled but still soft around the edges, with his blue eyes and wide smile, and Steve will never admit that sometimes when he looks at James, he has trouble looking away.

Steve snaps back into the moment and James is still looking at him expectantly, and he decides right then and there that, fuck it, he’s gonna give James some real work to do.

“If you’re really that bored with the office work,” he starts a little nervously, hoping his offer won’t come across as inappropriate, “you can always help me keep up my appearances and attend Tony’s party with me.”

He hopes he looks more confident than he feels, and gives James an unwavering stare.

James looks at him, puzzled, before a slow smile spreads across his face. “ _Me_? _I_ get to be Captain Steve Rogers’ date for the night?”

“Not a date, you’re there for company,” Steve explains over James’ snickering, feeling his lips tug up at the corners. He’ll give him this.

“Amazing, truly. I’d love to attend the gala with you, Steve.”

“Yeah, yeah,” the older man says and gets up to dispose of his Starbucks coffee cup, “it is a privilege only few get to experience, but don’t let it get to your head.”

“Was that a _joke_?” James exclaims, still laughing, and Steve can’t help but display a real smile this time, “Would ya look at that, you’ve spoken more to me these past ten minutes than you have the entire time I’ve been here, and now you’re even cracking jokes. We’re really getting somewhere here, Steve.”

Steve rolls his eyes fondly as he snaps his suitcase shut and grabs his jacket to head out for the day. “The only place you should be getting to is a tailor so you can get a proper suit. Put it on the company’s bill, don’t worry about it.”

“What makes you think I don’t have a proper suit already?” James asks with a mischievous grin on his face, “Do I look that cheap to you?”

“Oh, whatever,” Steve scoffs playfully and walks over to the door, before exiting he turns around to say, “You have the schedule, I’ll send a car to your place to pick you up. Don’t be late!”

At that, James falters. “Actually, is it okay if we just meet there? I have some things to do before the event.”

Steve shrugs. “Suit yourself. I’ll see ya Saturday.”

“See you then, Steve.”

The smile James sends his way follows him well out the door.

***

The best thing about his apartment in Brooklyn, Bucky thinks, must be the shower and bathtub combo.

On occasions like tonight, when he has a special event to attend, he loves to spoil himself and do a little at home spa treatment. First he steps into the shower and puts a generous amount of body wash on his loofah, which he uses to gently scrub his skin clean. He then wets his hair, fingers threading through the strands, some of the water splashing him in the face. After his shampoo and conditioning routine, he smears some of the expensive leave in mask into his hair and switches into the awaiting bathtub filled with warm water and Epsom salts. Bucky likes to take a soak every now and then, careful with his sensitive skin, to loosen up his muscles and relax him for the night ahead. While in there he takes a little hand mirror and reaches over to the edge of the tub where he placed his favorite calming face mask, which he carefully applies

to his face. Next, he takes the tweezers and plucks out some eyebrow hairs and the oddly placed facial hair. He shaved his face in the morning, but apparently he missed a spot or two. When that’s done, he just leans back and exhales, letting the products of his beauty regimen work their magic.

He’s excited for tonight. With working at Stark’s and getting paid so well, he didn’t see the need to meet with any other clients during that time, he sent out an email and notifying the lovely gentlemen and some ladies that he’d be taking a vacation and wouldn’t be available until further notice two days before he started his new arrangement. So naturally, he’s been preoccupied with helping Steve and passing time when he wasn’t at the office building, not having the time to attend any fancy dinner parties or luncheons like he usually does with clients. He can admit that he’s missed it.

Bucky slides into the water further and sighs with his eyes closed, he can feel some droplets of water dripping from the tip of his nose, but he’s too comfortable to reach up and wipe them away.

Glancing at the digital clock he keeps in his bathroom, he realizes that he’s been soaking for a while now, and probably should also take the face product off. He heaves himself up and steps into the shower to rinse his body and face one more time, picking up the small scissors on the bench in the shower stall and snipping away at the hair on his underarms, his happy trail, and his crotch area. Bucky is a grown ass man, being silky smooth isn’t really his thing, but he does keep a strict grooming regiment. It’s just hygienic, really.

With his skin glistening from the body oil he used and a towel wrapped around his middle, he makes his way into his bedroom and stops in front of the closet. Mulling over which suit he should wear, he finally decides on a navy blue one with a crisp white dress shirt underneath. Getting dressed and styling his hair into a little man bun, with some strands hanging loose to frame his face, doesn’t take him long, and before Bucky knows it, he’s stepping out of the elevator and getting into the awaiting car.

Bucky watches the city lights pass him by and smirks. It’s showtime, baby.

The car stops in front of Steve’s building and it doesn’t take long for the blond man to hurry his way in, settling down next to Bucky and exhaling deeply.

“Everything alright, Cap?” Bucky smirks while sipping out of a glass of champagne that the car company so generously provided at the little bar.

“All good,” Steve exhales and checks his phone before pocketing it, “my time management is currently utter crap, can’t imagine why.” He gives Bucky the side eye. “I fell asleep and only had about an hour to get ready. It was a mess.”

Bucky unabashedly looks him up and down. “Looks good to me,” he says before taking another sip.

Steve rolls his eyes with a small smile playing on his lips, but doesn’t say anything as he turns to look out the window.

“Where are my manners, you want some?” Bucky lifts his glass in Steve’s direction but he just shakes his head.

“Nah, not much of a champagne drinker, but thanks.”

“Oh?” Bucky raises his brows in curiosity, “What’s your poison, then?”

Steve looks at him and smirks, crossing his arms over his broad chest. Bucky does his best not to glance down. “Guess.”

“Hmmm,” he puts the glass away and taps his fingers against his chin, “You seem like a man who enjoys a good wine with his dinner, but when it comes down to it, whiskey will always be your drink of choice to hit the spot just right. Am I wrong?”

Steve lets out a surprised laugh through his slack jaw, nodding slowly. “It’s like you’re reading my mind.”

Bucky laughs soundly, shrugging. “What did I tell you? I’m good at reading people!” They chuckle a bit more before comfortable silence falls upon them, waiting to arrive at their destination.

When they do, Bucky immediately spots a couple photographers in front of the entrance, but he ducks his head and keeps his eyes averted while he follows Steve into the building. From what Tony told him there’s not gonna be a crazy amount of people at the party, but those attending are relevant enough for the

paparazzi and the news rags to have interest in them. Immediately Bucky is annoyed, being someone who values privacy he’ll never understand how some people willingly give that up for fame and fortune.

“Captain!” is the first thing he hears upon entering the large banquet hall, both men immediately turning to face Tony, “And James, how nice to see you both!”

The way he pronounces Bucky’s name doesn’t go unnoticed, and he throws Stark a tense smile, hoping he’ll lay off of his sarcasm. Tony, God bless him and his ability to lie, does.

“Hey, how are you doing, Tony?” Steve asks and pats the older man on the back, and Bucky zones out of the conversation to admire his surroundings. The event is being held at The Plaza, where else, and from the location to the decoration, everything is gorgeous. Even the guests seem to be unnaturally beautiful. Bucky doesn’t mind being a part of crowds like these, but too much glitz and glamour puts an itch under his skin that he’d rather not have.

“And you,” Tony’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts, “I haven’t seen you in a while. You settling in nicely?”

Stark, of course, knows everything that’s currently going on regarding Bucky’s job. He knows about him and Natasha and he knows how Steve asked him to attend the party with him, but Bucky still appreciates the small talk to keep the show running.

“Yes, Mr. Stark,” Bucky smiles and sees Tony hold in a laugh, “everything is just fine. My colleagues are lovely, and the work itself is a lot of fun, actually.”

“Very nice to hear, James,” Tony smiles and Bucky almost huffs at the fact that Stark didn’t even allow him to call him by his first name. Smug bastard, he is.

When Stark excuses himself to chat with some other guests, Bucky notices Steve looking around the room nervously. Deciding not to pry, he just nudges him with his elbow and asks, “To the bar?”

Relief washes over Steve’s face as he nods enthusiastically. “Yes, please.”

The next couple hours go by uneventfully, Steve stopping to chat with people here and there and Bucky dutifully making sure that they never run out of drinks. It’s fun, it’s nice, it’s a lot more relaxed than Bucky initially expected.

“What about her?” Bucky asks Steve as they’re leaning against the bar, pleasantly buzzed and well on their way to getting drunk.

“Maria? I’m kind of scared of her,” Steve admits sheepishly and Bucky can see that he’s telling the truth, which cracks him up a little.

“Okay, okay, that’s fair. What about… oh, her? She’s gorgeous!”

“Yeah, runs in the family,” Steve mutters, and when Bucky looks at him questioningly, he elaborates, “She’s related to my ex wife.”

Bucky’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. He didn’t know Steve used to be married. He tucks that little piece of info away and decides to cautiously pry.

“Oh, yikes. Any hard feelings?”

“Nah,” Steve looks down at his drink before taking a generous swing, “not really. Just… a little awkward, at times. She works for one of Stark’s companies.”

“SHIELD?” Bucky asks, he’s not completely clueless. He knows that Tony took over his father’s security company after his unfortunate passing, not that he cares much for it anyway. Tony has people who manage it for him.

“Exactly. We don’t run into each other often, but when it happens, it’s usually a very swift and quiet affair.”

Bucky nods in understanding and downs his drink, before plucking Steve’s glass out of his hands, skillfully ignoring the older man’s protests, and motioning to the dance floor.

“We should get moving a little, else we’ll fall asleep,” Bucky says with a smile, and Steve snorts at that.

“I’m a terrible dancer, James. I don’t wanna subject you to that.”

“Nah, c’mon, just a little? It’ll be fun!” he juts his bottom lip out comically and isn’t sure if Steve actually finds him funny or if he’s just laughing because he’s drunk.

“No, I’d rather not,” Steve laughs harder when Bucky crosses his arms over his chest and looks at him with wide eyes and a pouty mouth. “Puppy eyes won’t help ya anything, I’m used to them from Tony.”

“I’m cuter than Tony, though!” Bucky yells, affronted, but decides to let it go.

“I have something a lot better than dancing, though,” Steve says and motions for Bucky to follow him, which he does curiously.

They walk through some hallways and up some stairs in comfortable silence, nobody moving around the space but them, and soon Steve is opening a huge door which leads to a terrace, and Bucky is speechless for a second.

They’re on top of the building and at their feet they can see the city of New York in all its glory. The lights are bright but everything seems smaller from up here, the wind blowing through their hair and for a moment, Bucky is completely at ease.

He closes his eyes and inhales deeply, holds his breath for a second before exhaling loudly. “It’s stunning up here.”

“It really is. Feels like you’re at the top of the world, doesn’t it?” Bucky nods and looks out at the scene before him again, taking it all in. “Y’know,” Steve starts, “if you had told me 15 years ago that I would be standing here, in one of the most prestigious places in the city, drinking expensive alcohol and wearing a suit that costs more than my entire wardrobe back then, I would’ve called you crazy. It’s easy to get lost in this lifestyle sometimes, but when you find a place where everything else seems tiny, almost meaningless, where the cold breeze takes you back to a moment of clarity, you really start to put things into perspective and realize, not much has changed over the years after all. All the money and possessions and all the media bullshit- it doesn’t matter, because you’re still you, and you still have the same values you did 20, 30 years ago. That’s what lets you sleep at night, and not how many gigs you’ve landed, how many products you’ve sold, how much money you’ve made. I still feel like I’m the lanky boy in Brooklyn that I was 20 years ago.”

Bucky is looking at Steve, really looking at him, taking his words in and letting the warmth of them spread across his chest. Steve really is going through some shit, isn’t he?

Steve chuckles to himself, then, taking a sip of the drink he took with him. “Sorry for unloading this just now, not sure what came over me,” he says, a blush sitting high on his cheeks.

“No, it’s fine,” Bucky rasps, gently, always gently, “you’re right. New York tends to swallow you up, you have to find away to come back up again.”

They make eye contact then, holding it for a couple seconds, and Bucky decides then that it’s time to tell a truth for once.

“I’m a Brooklyn boy too, y’know?”

Steve’s eyes widen in surprise, smile on his lips. “Really? I wasn’t sure at first because your accent doesn’t give away too much, but some things are just so Brooklyn that they always shine through.”

They both laugh in understanding. “Yeah, that’s very true. Brooklyn always shines through.”

They don’t say anything for a while, just staring at the city for a bit. Bucky breaks the silence.

“Thank you for inviting me tonight, Steve.”

Steve looks at him and smiles warmly. “You’re very welcome, James.”

“Bucky,” he says without looking away from the sight before him.

“Bucky?” Steve asks with a smile in his voice.

“James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes,” he gives Steve a private smile when the other man seems to understand.

“Alright, Bucky it is, then.”

They stand there in silence for a couple more beats, just looking at each other with a dumb smile on their faces, before Steve snaps out of it and excuses himself, leaving Bucky alone with the world at his feet.

He wonders what the hell just happened.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't even begin to apologize for how long this took. I'll try to be more on time from now on, okay? 
> 
> huge thank you to Teddy who kicked my ass into gear so I could finish this sometime this century.
> 
> all mistakes are mine, hope you enjoy!
> 
> kudos and comments are always appreciated xxx
> 
> (mentions of Bucky and Jack Rollins and also Bucky and Alexander Pierce. nothing explicit tho!)

The event was fun, the conversations pleasant and people didn’t bother him too much throughout the night, which Steve was thankful for, but he just can’t stop thinking about those moments on the terrace he had with James. _Bucky_. He was very impressed by Bucky’s resume, and of course, the recommendation Tony gave him. They didn’t seem all that close tonight, Steve thinks, but then again, Tony hasn’t had a lot of free time to spend with friends lately. Winter is approaching, and they have many renovations and upgrades to tend to, the company is swamped.

Bucky is a nice man, he’s quick witted and Steve can admit that he found the gala bearable, if not _fun_ , with him by his side. Even when Bucky tried to get Steve to chat up some women and ask them for a dance. Steve’s never been good with dames, sadly, but he can see how each and every single one of them would fall all over themselves for Bucky. Even Natasha, he supposes, judging by the tension between those two that is noticeable whenever they are in a room together. He wonders what exactly Bucky’s deal is.

Steve chuckles to himself quietly, shaking his head and deciding that, really, it is absolutely none of his business. He and James are not friends, they work together, for fuck’s sake. He was also right, Steve doesn’t give him enough work around the company. Tony isn’t paying him for shits and giggles after all, what was he thinking? Determined to make some changes as soon as Monday comes, he turns to his side and wills his mind and body to fall asleep.

At eight a.m. sharp he strides into the building, smiles at the security guard and makes his way up into the office. He got a good morning workout in and is feeling very energized, motivated to get as much work done as possible and relieve Tony of his many, many duties. They are a team, after all.

“Good morning, James,” he greets the man who is already sitting at his own desk in front of Steve’s office, and he doesn’t miss the surprised look he throws him. “Has Tony approved the new designs for Johnson & Stein yet?”

Bucky gets up and wipes his hands on his black dress pants, looking unsure. “Uh, I don’t- know? You’re the one that usually handles that, so I don’t-“

“Then go to his office and ask his secretary if that’s been taken care of, I need the documents on my desk in ten minutes max.”

“Al- alright, I’ll just-“ Bucky nods and Steve makes sure to give him a smile before he heads to his desk to prepare the mockups for today’s meeting. They have a ton of work to do, and Steve has to be in constant contact with Tony for approvals and signatures, something he would usually fetch himself, but he doesn’t have the time nor the patience for it today. These are the times where an assistant really comes in handy, and he smirks as he rifles through his letters.

 _Be careful what you wish for, Bucky_ , he thinks.

At around twelve, he hears a knock at his door just as he’s finalized some finishing touches on a 3D model Jarvis pulled up for him. He moves his hand to make the hologram disappear before he nods for Bucky to enter.

“Is it alright if I leave for lunch now or do you need me to do anything else?” Bucky asks.

“Tony has signed all the necessary paperwork, yes?”

Bucky nods.

“You’ve also let marketing know about the last minute changes we decided to make on those new sunglasses? And have you talked to Pepper about the approval for the new budget? We’re kind of going overboard this winter, but it’s necessary according to Tony.” He rolls his eyes and lets a big binder slam onto his desk. “Also, these need to be shredded, I trust you to do that later on.”

Bucky nods. “Yes, everything has been taken care of, and I will get to that as soon as I can.”

Steve looks up with a clipped smile. “Alright then, you can go on your lunch break. Oh, and James?” the younger man turns around with a sigh, “When you are finished with your break, will you pick up my suit from the dry cleaning and

bring it to my apartment? My doorman will let you in, as always, and Jarvis will notify me when you’re finished. You can go home after that.”

“Yes, sir!” Bucky salutes exaggeratedly, making Steve chuckle.

“Thank you, James,” he says and watches him leave and step onto the elevator, before he lets out a long sigh. These are going to be a rough few months.

A couple weeks pass without anything exciting happening, Steve just works on meeting his deadlines and optimizing his designs, Tony tries his best not to throw the company off schedule with his new ideas ( _“Even better ones, Steve, I swear!”_ ) and Bucky obediently fulfills every task that gets thrown at him.

Steve is impressed, really. From getting coffee, to buying lunch, to fetching documents and papers from any and every department on different floors, to making sure Steve’s clothes always get taken care of and end up exactly where he needs them when he needs them, to organizing rides on time so Steve can attend out of office meetings and luncheons, Bucky does it all without a complaint and a smile on his lips. Steve wonders how much Tony pays him for it, considering that Steve hasn’t read the contract and Bucky does it all with enthusiasm that rarely seems put on.

They haven’t spoken much, is the thing. The banter and jokes have stopped some time ago, their schedule is just too tight for them to take time out of the day to joke around, and they haven’t had a conversation that wasn’t work related since the night of the gala. _Good_ , Steve thinks, _that is how a professional work relationship should be_. Still, he can’t pretend that something in his chest doesn’t clench whenever he gets a disappointed look when he calls Bucky by his real first name.

***

“And then,” Bucky shouts around a mouthful of Doritos, “ _then_ he made me pack his suitcase. _His suitcase_ , Tony! I can’t believe it!”

“What’s the problem, popsicle man?” Tony asks, muffled. He’s probably driving and told Jarvis to put Bucky on speaker phone.

“He won’t even look me in the eye properly, yet he expects me to comfortably stride into his apartment, go through his stuff, and pack his suitcase for the trip. He barely speaks to me outside of work, and that wasn’t the point of this whole agreement!” He throws the empty Doritos bag into the trash and lets himself fall onto his sofa with a huff.

“No, it wasn’t. You’ll just have to try harder.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “How? I suggested going for drinks and he said he _wasn’t thirsty! What?_ ”

He’s pretty sure he almost made Tony crash the car. Thank God for Jarvis and his ability to take the wheel. Literally.

“My God, the second-hand-embarrassment I’m feeling right now makes me wish I actually crashed the car. Thank you, Jarvis, I got it.”

“I don’t know what to do, Stark. I’m at my wit’s end.” He plays with the strings on his hoodie, pouting like a little child. He knows he may be exaggerating, but he’s _frustrated_. Not only because this is technically his job and he can’t do it right, but also because Steve is damn attractive and he’d like to do something about it, please and thank you. If things go on like this, he’ll probably die of neglect and blue balls. Whatever, he’ll just have to think of something.

Glancing at the clock, he decides that he should probably start getting ready for his spa appointment. Every once in a while he likes to treat himself to a professional massage and facial. Those things are especially important when he’s seeing clients, considering that his appearance is mostly his money maker, but he’s gotten quite fond of how luxurious and lush it makes him feel. Self care is important, Bucky knows.

“Alright then, Stark. I’ll keep you updated, thanks for the advice. More or less.”

Stark chuckles on the other end of the line. “You got it, Bucks. Good luck!” With that he hangs up and leaves Bucky grumbling about the silly little nicknames Stark seems to consistently come up with. It takes him five minutes to get himself ready and then he’s out the door, climbing into the Uber and making his way to Dalia’s.

What he doesn’t expect while he’s waiting for Tamara to prepare the room for his facial, after he’s been kneaded into a gooey pile of human and oiled up to shiny perfection of course, is to run into Steve. Into a shirtless Steve. A shirtless Steve with only a towel wrapped around his middle. A towel that barely hides his bulge.

They stare at each other wide eyed, both half naked and shiny from the glorious lavender massage oil Dalia likes to use, and it’s only a tiny bit awkward. Thankfully, Bucky is used to shy men, even uptight ones, so he snaps himself out of his frozen state and gives Steve a sly smile.

“You here often?” he asks with a smirk, and absolutely revels in the flat look Steve gives him.

“As a matter of fact, yes, I am. You should know, seeing as you’ve been handling all my bills.” Steve seems uncomfortable, Bucky notes, shoulders rigid and voice an octave higher than it usually is. Probably because he’s standing in front of his PA, shirtless. God, he really is a prude.

“Haven’t looked into them as much, snooping isn’t my job. You waiting for Tamara, or…?”

“Margo,” Steve corrects, “She’s the only one that really knows how to take care of my skin.”

“All those wrinkles,” Bucky teases, elbowing Steve in the ribs lightly. The older man gives him a look, but he’s smiling, and Bucky sees it as a success.

That’s when Tamara comes out of the room, arms lifted so she can wrap a hair tie around her beautiful copper red locks. “I’m so sorry, Mister Barnes, it will only be a minute. Let me get some more fresh towels and we can start.”

He nods in understanding, smiling at her softly, and lets her pass by him to get what she needs. He turns to Steve and shrugs. “I can be patient when it comes to receiving facials, y’know,” he inches closer and lets Steve know, playing at nonchalant. The innuendo isn’t lost on either of them. “It’s always worth it, right, and they do say that good things come to those who wait. And facials are just so, _so_ good.” He lets his voice drag towards the end and he sees Steve shift uncomfortably. When he sees Tamara return he follows her into the room.

“See you later, bossman,” he throws over his shoulder, “Have fun with your facial.” One last wink and he closes the door behind him.

Toying with Steve is just too much fun. Now he just has to make sure to hide his stiffy during the rest of the treatment.

It’s not awkward after that encounter, mainly because Steve avoids him like the plague. Bucky tries so hard to trap the older man into some kind of conversation, but it’s nearly impossible to do so. Steve sends him to do lists via email, he works from home a lot, and even started picking up his own laundry so Bucky wouldn’t have a reason to come to his apartment. Things are not going as planned.

He’s spinning around in Steve’s chair one morning, anticipating whether Steve will decide to come into the office again or not, when Natasha knocks on the door and lets herself in. She startles when she spots Bucky.

“You lost or something?” she asks and Bucky turns to her with a sarcastic smile.

“I do work here, y’know.”

“Whatever,” she rolls her eyes and walks over to him, tossing a stack of papers onto the desk in front of him, “these need to be filled out and scanned, then sent to Lang Inc., tell Steve I need them before six tonight.”

“Steve probably won’t be in office today, though.”

She turns with raised eyebrows and looks Bucky up and down dismissively. “You know where he lives, don’t you?”

He sits up with a frown. “I can’t just barge into his home when he wishes to be alone. I work for him, not you.”

“James,” she snaps, “get these papers to Steve, _now_. If this isn’t done by the time I need it to be done, I’ll make your time here such hell that you’re gonna beg Tony to fire you, understood?”

He doesn’t know if Natasha could do that, despite her being the most intimidating person he’s ever come in contact with, but he decides not to test her. He takes the papers and puts them in a folder before making his way out

of the building, calling an Uber and letting himself be driven to Steve’s apartment complex.

He’s annoyed that the Widow seems to hate him despite their friendship at their previous shared workplace, but he guesses her mistrust is reasonable. He’s not sure if he’d trust someone like himself either, in a situation like this.

The pep talk he gives himself while standing in front of Steve’s door doesn’t take _that_ long, if you ask him, besides, it’s necessary. He doesn’t know what it is about Steve that makes Bucky feel so shy and awkward all of a sudden. He’s never been like that. It’s probably a good thing that Steve put some distance between them, lest he rubs off on Bucky even more, and not even in the good way.

Bucky squeezes his eyes shut and wills himself to concentrate on how to best approach this situation. Just when his knuckles are inches away from meeting wood of the door, it flies open and in front of him appears Steve, slightly frowning and a lot confused.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, somewhat unkindly.

“I- what? How did you know I was here?” Bucky stammers, looking behind himself as if someone followed him.

Steve rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, leaning against the door frame casually. “Jarvis told me you’ve entered the building around fifteen minutes ago and have been standing in front of my door for twelve. What’s that about, James?”

He looks smug. The bastard looks smug. Bucky can’t believe it.

He rolls his eyes in mock exasperation. “Don’t flatter yourself,” he says as he tosses the folder he is holding at Steve’s chest, brushing against him as he enters the apartment and tries not to chuckle at the way Steve scrambles to catch the documents.

He’s been at Steve’s place a handful of times, mostly to deliver his freshly done laundry, but he’s never been here while Steve was present. It’s clean and nicely decorated usually, but now all Bucky sees is a mess. The coffee table is

overflowing with papers, folders are scattered all over the plush carpet, and on the kitchen island to his left he can see drafts upon drafts with scribbles and designs all over them. He turns around to see a frowning Steve behind him.

“Busy?” Bucky smirks and revels in how annoyed Steve seems. He’s gonna crack him sooner or later, he knows.

“Very,” Steve hisses at him before walking over to the kitchen and hastily turning the blue prints over. “Shouldn’t you be working or something?”

Bucky nods contemplatively. “I am, actually. Natasha told me to bring those files to you and she needs them signed before six today. Maybe look them over before you send them off.”

“I know how to do my job, thank you, Bucky,” Steve snaps before his eyes widen at the realization of what he’s just called him.

Bucky’s Cheshire cat grin takes over his whole face. “Ah, there we go. About time.” He leisurely walks to the chair at the kitchen island and takes a seat, leaning back and crossing his arms while mustering Steve up and down. The blond man is clearly a little uncomfortable.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” Steve stammers and collects the designs to put them on the coffee table in the living room, right on top of the mess of documents that’s already there.

“Sure you don’t,” Bucky shrugs nonchalantly, “but anyways, I’ve done my job, the list you sent me was so short that I was done with all of those tasks an hour after I’ve clocked in, and now I’m here and without work.”

“Not true,” Steve mutters, “there’s always something to do, especially at Stark’s.”

“Then give me an order, Captain,” Bucky yells and spreads his arms, challengingly meeting Steve’s eyes, “I’m all yours.”

He sees something harden in Steve’s expression.

“Fine,” Steve smirks, sending tingles down Bucky’s spine, “let’s get you some work to do.”

***

Steve isn’t sure what Bucky thought he was insinuating when he promised to give him some tasks, but by the annoyed downwards tilt of his mouth, Steve guesses it wasn’t this.

“Pass me the screwdriver, please,” he says while pointing the flashlight above his head to see if there are any more spots that need a tweaking.

“Don’t you have a mechanic for this?” Bucky yells from the other side of the car where he’s blindly reaching around himself to locate the tool Steve asked for.

Truth to be told, Steve does. Of course he does. His car broke down just yesterday and he’s in no hurry to get it fixed, driving a car in New York on the daily is a safe way to get grey hairs prematurely, after all. But fuck it, if Bucky wants to play games, Steve wasn’t gonna say no. He was done with his work anyway, and taking care of the documents Natasha needed from him took only a few minutes, so he has enough time to drag this little “task” out for as much as he wants. Or until Bucky snaps, Steve is indifferent.

“Nah, a little DIY is a lot more fun, don’t you think?” Steve laughs and completely loses it when he sees Bucky roll out from under the car and get up with a huff. When Steve does the same, he can see Bucky fixing his hair in the side view mirror of the car. Bucky looks over and gives him a look that could kill. “What?” Steve laughs while wiping his hands with a rag, making sure to flex his muscles. He’s so glad he decided to change into his undershirt.

“You’re terrible,” Bucky grumbles, but Steve can see a little smile threaten to form on his lips.

He shrugs with a smirk. “Not sure what you’re talking about. Besides, you asked to help me. Next time, when I fulfill your request, you better thank me instead of bitching about it.”

It was all meant as a joke, of course, but suddenly Bucky makes three steps forward and crowds into Steve’s space, making his throat dry at the sudden proximity.

“Thank you so much, Captain,” Bucky says, voice raspier than Steve’s ever heard it before, the younger man peering up at him through his long eyelashes,

“I wouldn’t have known what to do with myself, but thankfully you’ve given me an order that I could follow. I _love_ following orders,” he glances down at Steve’s lips before looking into his eyes again, “and next time,” he lowers his voice into a whisper, making Steve swallow hard, “I’m gonna be a good boy and do what the Captain says with no complaint, okay? I promise, Sir.” His eyes are still wide and glassy and it takes everything Steve has in him not to grab Bucky by the hair and bend him over the hood of the car.

Bucky suddenly breaks into laughter, snapping Steve out of his inappropriate thoughts and making a blush rise high on his cheeks. They step apart and Steve drives a hand through his hair.

“Ha ha,” he mocks, “that was real funny, Bucky.”

“You should’ve seen your face,” Bucky laughs, wiping imaginary tears from his eyes, “you were so into it. God!”

It takes a while for him to catch his breath and Steve busies himself with putting away the toolbox, a small smile on his lips. Occasionally he chuckles. It is amusing, he must admit, despite the improper situation.

“Man,” Bucky chuckles behind Steve, slapping a hand on his naked shoulder, “that was good. Good times, Steve, good times.”

“Yeah,” Steve smiles over his shoulder, “but next time, I won’t give you anything to laugh about, trust me on that one, Buck.”

The younger man raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Is that so?”

“Sure is. Now be a good boy and get cleaned up. We’re done for today.”

Steve revels in the way Bucky bites his lower lip unconsciously, nodding slowly before turning around and starting to walk up the steps into the apartment.

“Oh, and Bucky?”

“Yeah?”

“Wrong title.” Steve smirks as questioning eyes meet his. “It’s not ‘Sir’. You’ve used the wrong title.”

Bucky’s shocked face would be funny if it weren’t for the hard swallow he somehow manages, nodding dumbly, looking surprised and taken off-guard and so fucking hot. Steve nods towards the stairs.

“Off you go, now.” Without a word, Bucky turns around and disappears.

Steve watches his ass as he goes.

***

It’s a gloomy day in New York, the clouds look heavy with unshed rain, the wind is blowing something fierce, and Bucky is not looking forward to winter. Like, proper New York winter. At all.

He’s always hated the cold for some reason, always shying away from playing in the snow like the other kids in school would, and nothing’s really changed, except for how he has to manage his life around the harsh winter days, adults don’t get days off work because of a snow storm.

It’s funny, though, his alias being Winter Soldier and all. Oh, the irony. He contemplates it a little, maybe you could interpret it as a soldier who fights against the winter. Because he hates it, naturally. If he’s not careful, he’ll really be turning into an icicle man, or whatever Stark has been calling him.

Jesus, he thinks, rubbing his forehead, I really should be spending less time with Stark, he’s a bad influence.

They have been spending more time together, actually, seeing as Steve and Tony work closely together during some of their biggest projects this year, and now that Steve gives Bucky actual useful tasks, he’s with them most of the time, as is Pepper.

Pepper Potts. What a nice lady. Her and Stark are good together, they really are. And she knows about their little arrangement, knows who Bucky is. She never judged him for it, at least he doesn’t think so. It’s weird to him, if he thinks about it, that Pepper also knows about his history with Tony and all the stuff they got up to, before this Steve drama happened. He knows Pepper allows it all, Tony assured him multiple times that, no, he was not cheating on his wife. Besides, it’s not like their relationship has ever been sexual. Sure, Bucky is naked most of the time when he gets tied up, but naked bodies are not

inherently sexual, Bucky insists on that, but the stress relieving effects busying his hands and having Bucky as his ragdoll have on Tony is something the younger man will never understand. Not that it matters, he’s not a psychologist, and as long as he gets paid, he has no business thinking into things any further.

A groan slips through his lips before he can stop it, throwing his head back onto the soft couch cushions.

He’s _bored_.

Steve is out of town for a conference, adamant about being able to do everything he needs without his PA by his side, thank you very much, and so Bucky has to return to the office on Monday and not a day earlier. It’s Thursday. Steve has been gone for about eight hours.

Bucky has spent some time fucking around on his phone and when he got bored, he did his laundry. That’s it. Now he’s just sitting around at his place.

His apartment is spacious and flooded with light, something that was crucial to him when he purchased it. He tends to fall victim to winter depression, and light is always, always better than dark. Despite liking the space and how it’s decorated, though, he never spent too much time in it in these past two years that he’s been living here. He’s mostly out and about shopping, having brunch with friends, having lunch with clients, roaming around various art galleries in New York. He’d rather spend his days on vacations in the tropics, in vacation houses in Staten Island, and in luxurious penthouse apartments than sit in his own home, a home that’s cozy but cold at the same time, too big, too empty, too lonely.

Now that he’s home more often, though, he does appreciate the privilege he has to be able to be a home owner in New York at the mere age of 24. Bucky doesn’t come from money, but his money comes from the hard work he’s been doing the past years. Some might laugh, say that his job is easy money, but no. Money can never be easy, only fast.

And fast it is. Beneficial. No fuss, no drama, no questions asked. Just Bucky and his blue eyes and long eyelashes and perpetual grin and chiseled jaw and tight little body. Just him.

He sighs before getting up and walking over to the desk in the corner of his living room, turning on his laptop to check his emails. Might as well see what he’s been missing out on, really. He did send his clients a notice, of course, letting them know that he’ll be unavailable for an unforeseeable period of time, but he’s sure that some lovely, lonely men have messaged him anyways, just to tempt him. Or maybe to spite him, he doesn’t know. Not everyone he gets with is… good. Sometimes Bucky thinks you aren’t allowed to be, if you want a position like these men have, if you want fame and wealth and everything that comes with it.

Not that he’s one to straighten anybody’s moral compass, considering how askew his own is.

A few clicks later and he’s logged into his account, and well, look at that. He was right. There’s a couple of spam mails that have made their way into his inbox, some are from his bank, confirming Tony’s payment –thank God- and the rest is, well, from some of his favorite clients.

They are messages of well wishes, some clients expressing their sadness at Bucky’s sudden disappearance but still wishing him well, some are from clients who downright miss him, how cute is that, and the rest are inquiries of his schedule, apparently completely ignoring the previous e-mail he sent before he left. He rolls his eyes, a little miffed.

Two e-mails stand out to him, though.

One is from Alexander Pierce, a somewhat shady but charming man, who’s very into whisking Bucky away to one island or another, having him sip cocktails at the pools of expensive hotels and parading him around his large friend group, filled with equally old and strange characters. In his message, Pierce expresses his displeasure at Bucky’s decision to take a break, but promises him a lengthy vacation and some fun activities when he gets back. Bucky loves the sound of that. Pierce is one of the few clients he doesn’t sleep with, not really, the most he’s ever had to do was give him a quick handjob before bed, not that Bucky minded. But the time he spends with the older man is always fun, always filled with exciting company, excellent food, and days well spent. He’s looking forward to it.

The other e-mail that catches his eye, one that he received only two days ago, is from a gentleman named Jack Rollins. Sturdy, muscular, mean, and a big dick. Bucky isn’t sure what exactly draws him to Rollins, if he’s honest, the man is crass and demanding and not at all the luxurious, pleasant, insanely rich guy Bucky usually goes for. But the sex is mind blowing, the memories and bruises of it get Bucky through some boring clients with ease, and Jack pays well, every single time. He doesn’t know what the man does for a living, but he’s never complained about Bucky’s rates and always paid up nicely. All in all, a good gig.

And, according to his e-mail, he’s currently in New York. And he wants to see Bucky.

A slow smile spreads across his face, this is just what he needed to beat his boredom.

After he’s completed his thorough shower and grooming regimen, he’s standing in front of Rollin’s door, buzzing with excitement. It’s been a while since he’s last had sex, with Steve being difficult and all, so he’s eager to get someone on top of him, like, yesterday.

This time isn’t purely about the money, which startles him, but before he can think into it too much the door is opening and a strong hand is grabbing the collar of his shirt, pulling him in and slamming him against the door.

Yes, this is exactly it. He loves his time with Jack.

“Long time no see, boy,” Jack growls into his ear and wastes no time unbuckling Bucky’s belt and shoving a hand down his pants.

Usually, Bucky would mind the haste. Now, though, he’s desperate.

“Too long,” he moans weakly as Jack palms him through his briefs, nails digging into the older man’s muscular shoulders.

“Let’s make up for lost time, shall we?” Jack smirks at him nastily, and with that, they stumble to the bedroom, and Bucky gets to forget about Steve for a while.

Three hours later he’s satisfied, fucked out and richer and he has to admit, he’s missed that post sex haziness more than he thought he could. Bucky’s cheeks are flushed and his hair is messy, yet he hasn’t felt this happy in a while. Maybe that’s a problem. If it is, it’s one for another day.

Just as he’s about to pull his phone out to call an Uber, a sports car pulls up beside him, the doors opening to reveal a smiling Tony Stark.

“C’mon, hop in, soldat. I haven’t got all day,” Stark snaps his fingers and Bucky gets in wordlessly. “Lunch on me.”

He smiles over at Tony as he clicks the seatbelt into place. “Oh, really? What’s the occasion?”

“Pepper cancelled on me because she’s too busy and I refuse to have lunch by myself. Handsome men like me are always in good company.”

“Oh, wow. Tony Stark considers me good company. I’m flattered.”

Tony holds a finger up. “You didn’t let me finish, Popsicle Boy. Good company wasn’t available, so I had to settle for you.” He gives Bucky an exaggerated, crinkley smile, before focusing back on the road.

Bucky scoffs fondly, turning to look through the window. “I don’t care what you’re saying, I’m getting free lunch out of this, so I’m clearly the winner here.”

Stark chuckles. “Suit yourself.”

He takes them to the _The Grill_ , one of Steve’s favorite lunch spots, Bucky knows, and they get in without a reservation. Of course they do. Stark picks a nice little spot and before Bucky knows it, they’re being fawned over by the waiter who’s clearly a fan.

“Oh, good day, gentlemen, how are you doing on this lovely afternoon?” the waiter asks, his British accent coming out rushed due to his nervousness. “My name is Nicholas and I will be having the pleasure of waiting on you today.”

Bucky quirks and eyebrow at Tony, who is, of course, perfectly media trained and stays pokerfaced.

“Hello, Nicholas, thank you for the very friendly introduction,” Tony smiles, and Bucky has to suppress a snicker at the way the boy nearly pees himself. He’s definitely gay and for sure has a fat crush on Tony, him being a celebrity and all.

“Of course, only the best for the best,” the boy, Nicholas, smiles, before letting the shape of it freeze on his face at the realization of what he’s just said. “Um, I mean- oh Goodness, I was going to say- uh…”

Bucky decides to take pity on him and flashes him a bright grin, softening his eyes. “That’s quite alright, Nicholas. Our Tony here is used to all kinds of flattery, really.”

“True,” Tony quips, eyes still on the menu.

“We’ll choose in a minute, for now you can bring us some fresh bread and a bottle of your best white wine, please.”

“Of course, Sir, I’ll be back in a minute, Sir,” the boy stammers and he’s gone, leaving an amused Bucky behind.

“Charming,” Tony comments with his eyebrows up, earning him a kick to the shin from Bucky.

“Be nice,” he scolds, “the poor fella almost creamed his pants upon seeing you.”

Tony makes a grimace so disgusted, Bucky chokes on the water he was sipping. He should have known that dining with Tony would be an experience.

“God forbid,” Tony murmurs and soon Nicholas returns, bringing them their items and taking their order without a mishap this time.

“I will be back shortly,” he smiles, seemingly having calmed down enough to be able to do his job properly. Bucky pouts, he liked the boy’s clumsiness. It was lovely entertainment.

“So,” Tony leans forward and puts his chin on his palm, “care to tell me what you’ve been up to today?”

“Mmm, nope,” Bucky smiles before stuffing a piece of bread into his mouth.

“You should, though,” Tony lets him know, “seeing as I’ve found you in a rather, ah, disheveled state.”

Bucky suppresses a laugh. “What I do outside of office hours is none of your business, Mr. Stark.”

“Like hell it isn’t, the post office hours are specifically what I hired you for! Spill the beans, Buckaroo, who’s the lucky guy?”

Bucky rolls his eyes and starts fidgeting slightly. He’s not used to having to answer questions about his personal life. His tongue darts out to collect a crumb that was stuck on the corner of his mouth. He clears his throat and definitely does not meet Tony’s eyes when he answers.

“Just a client. Wanted to take the edge off, you know how it is.”

Tony’s smirk would be sickening if it weren’t amusing. “You sly dog,” he chuckles, “wooing Steve but betraying him the second he leaves town? Damn, you’re cold!”

Bucky shrugs sheepishly, sipping his water. “What can I say, a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do. Besides,” he turns more serious again, annoyance seeping into his voice, “I’m not wooing Steve. He won’t let himself be wooed, no matter what I do.”

Tony crosses his arms in front of his chest, mustering Bucky up and down. “Yeah, that’s true… We gotta think of something there.”

Just as Bucky’s about to reply that, yes, they do need to come up with some kind of plan lest he loses his mind to Steve and his shenanigans, Nicholas comes out with their food. He sets it all up nicely and wishes them a good meal before disappearing again.

“Damn, what did they do to him in the few minutes he was gone?” Bucky wonders out loud.

“He probably took a shot to calm his nerves,” Tony comments, grabbing knife and fork and digging into the scallops he ordered.

Bucky makes a non committal sound before focusing on his food as well, and they eat in silence for a little while, only the clinking of cutlery and the murmur

of other guests in the establishment audible around them. After some time, he hears Tony put down his fork and reach for his glass of wine. He sips once before clearing his throat, demanding Bucky’s attention. The younger man gives it to him.

“Listen,” Tony starts when Bucky looks up at him, still chewing heartily, but concentrating, “I have to say, you’ve been acing it as a personal assistant. Steve’s alert but relaxed at the same time, something I haven’t seen in him, in, like, ever. It’s clear you two get along well and that’s all I’ve wanted for Steve, for him to be able to let someone take the burden off of his shoulders.”

Bucky slows his chewing. “You firing me?”

“No! No, I couldn’t,” Tony looks around, a little uneasy, and decides to take another languid sip of his wine. It’s sweet. Good choice. “I’m just saying, your initial task here is done.”

“He hasn’t opened up to me, though, I don’t know anything about the man, I couldn’t shoulder any of his emotional baggage yet. He won’t even tell me his birthday, and I refuse to pry in the documents.”

“Fourth of July,” Tony supplies, rather unhelpfully.

Bucky levels him with a look. “You’re kidding.” Tony shakes his head. “Jesus Christ,” Bucky whines, dropping his cutlery and driving his hands through his hair. “He’s an all American goodie two shoes. A poster boy. The perfect son-in-law, all that,” his eyes are wide in disbelief. Steve Rogers, honestly.

“Yep,” Tony says, smacking his lips and returning to his food. “But, he still has issues,” he sing-songs. “You’ve helped him out immensely, and me as well, of course, everyone in the office, really. Even Natasha can admit that, although she doesn’t like you very much-“

Bucky’s head snaps up. “The widow? What did she say?”

“God, your nicknames are annoying.” He doesn’t say anything until Bucky’s expectant look basically penetrates his soul. “Alright, alright, damn, Icey. She said that Steve seems at ease with you. It doesn’t seem like much, but it means a lot.”

“How?” Bucky’s incredulous, “He doesn’t know me! I don’t know him! All we do is stupid office work together! No offense,” at Tony’s dismissive hand wave, he goes on, “How can he have all these opinions about me?”

“He sees what kind of character you are, James,” Tony explains through a mouthful of salad, “he sees that you’re genuine.”

Bucky shoots him a glare. “You _hired me_ to be his friend, Stark.”

The older man shrugs. “Yeah, but you get your shit done and ask for more instead of smooching off of Stark Industries and enjoying your paychecks without having to do anything. You’re a hustler, Bucky, you don’t accept handouts. Steve is the same, he’s never had it easy. He sees who you are more clearly than you’d think. He appreciates you.”

Bucky’s head is basically smoking, his appetite gone. Steve never shows his appreciation, though, of course he thanks Bucky, and the banter is also quite enjoyable, they’re good at bickering back and forth. But Bucky never thought Steve would go deeper than surface level. The attraction is there, on both sides, that much is clear, but Bucky didn’t even look into their chemistry outside of the sexual. Too busy being charming, and crass, and his usual seductive self. Too busy making Steve flush a gorgeous crimson to stop and try to have a genuine conversation with the man. Sometimes, Bucky’s an idiot.

“Sometimes I’m an idiot,” Bucky groans, more to himself than anything, but of course, Tony hears.

The older man barks out a laugh. “That you are, Frosty. Now finish your meal, eat your vegetables, there’s a good guy.”

Bucky glares, but does as he’s told.

***

No matter how gorgeous the city, how fancy the hotel room, at some point- once you’ve seen enough of them- they all blend together and you leave for home without a clear memory of the place you just visited in mind.

That’s how Steve feels, anyway.

He’s currently in Washington DC, and it is gorgeous, very interesting and clean and… did he mention interesting? But he doesn’t feel at ease anywhere that isn’t New York, his home.

He’s zapping through the channels on the TV, cocooned under the blankets in the cozy hotel bed, not really focusing on anything when he hears his phone buzz from where he’s left it to charge on the bedside table. He glances at it and sees a message from Bucky. With furrowed eyebrows he takes his phone and unlocks it, tapping on the notification.

_I found this Barbie game that lets you be an engineer for a day or some shit. How did I do?_

Attached is a picture of a scribbly design of a building, Barbie’s smiling face in the corner, a speech bubble telling the artist of the masterpiece they did a “great job!”. Steve snorts so hard he thinks he popped a blood vessel, the image of Bucky sitting at his desk and looking up Barbie games out of boredom burning in his brain, making him let out a belly laugh.

Still chuckling he replies.

**Geez, Buck, that bored without me?**

_You don’t know what it’s like,_ comes the reply seconds later, _I’m too lazy and warm to leave my apartment. The world out there is harsh and unforgiving, young Steven._ Steve snorts and bites his lip, about to tap out a reply when another message comes through. _Now answer my question, how are you liking the design? Think I should pitch it to Tony?_

Steve answers with an eye roll. **I think it’s very unique and interesting, it will surely do well on the market. Just, may I ask… what even is that?**

_PFFFFF WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN that’s clearly a redesign of the Stark tower!!! OBVIOUSLY!!_

Steve laughs again. **Obviously, I’m sorry Bucky... it’s just so gorgeous that it blinded me for a sec, couldn’t recognize it…**

He laughs at their silliness, it’s comfortable and sweet, biting his lip to stop his huge grin. What is going on with him, seriously. Before he can think about it further his phone starts buzzing insistently, signaling a call. Bucky’s calling him.

He exhales shakily once before picking up the phone.

“You’re so full of shit!” is the first thing he hears and a laugh bubbles out of him before he can stop it. “You’re just intimidated by my talent and the fact that I could easily replace you at Stark’s. Admit it!”

When his laughter has subsided a little, Steve takes a deep breath and starts nodding despite Bucky being unable to see him. “You’re right, I admit defeat. You really are better at this than me.”

“Ha!” Bucky sounds so pleased about it, it makes Steve’s chest tighten. “Knew it.”

“Nah, but seriously, Bucky. Barbie?”

“Oh, shut up,” Bucky snaps, no heat behind it, “my sister came to visit and she brought my niece along. The girl loves those games, and when I saw that engineering play pretend, I couldn’t resist.” There’s a smile in his voice, fond and warm.

“Didn’t know you had a sister, or a niece,” Steve says, surprised. He’s careful with this, knowing that Bucky is sensitive about personal questions. Now, though, he doesn’t seem to mind them.

“Yeah, my sister Rebecca, she’s younger than me. Doesn’t live in New York, so I don’t get to see her or the little one often, but thankfully I had the weekend off when she visited.”

“Buck, you know I would give you the weekend off regardless if you want to go see your family. That’s no issue at all.” Steve scoots down the bed further, getting comfortable.

“I know, Steve, don’t worry about it. I would’ve asked. It’s just that she’s busy most of the time as well, so even when I do have the time, I can’t always come see her. It’s fine. I’ve seen enough of her mug in those twenty years we lived together anyways,” he laughs lightly, seemingly chewing on something.

Steve decides that Bucky’s given him enough and changes the topic. “Whatcha eating there?”

“Cashews,” Bucky quips, “a healthy snack for a healthy man.”

Steve thinks about it. “You are very healthy, honestly. Way better off than what I was like at 23, let me tell ya.”

“Oh? And what were you like, then?”

Steve thinks back to his younger days, rubbing his left temple. “I was small, scrawny. Twenty pounds soaking wet. A slight breeze could’ve killed me.”

Bucky is silent for a few beats, then: “No kidding?”

Steve chuckles humorlessly. “Nope. I had all kinds of illnesses, asthma, weak lungs, a bad back… It was horrible for most of my life. Once I got out of college it got better, though, I had to get myself together after shit hit the fan and I finally had enough money to visit the right doctors. Good meds, endless days at the gym, and here I am, as good as new.”

“Damn,” Bucky murmurs, clearly stunned, “I never would’ve thought the great Captain Rogers used to be a little kid.”

That startles a laugh out of Steve. “The littlest around,” he smiles, shrugging to himself. He’s long gotten over the difficulties in his past, and thanks to modern day acceptance, he even went to a therapist to work out some of the remaining trauma. All in all, he’s good now, thankfully.

“Let us all thank God for what you have become, then.”

Steve’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “And what’s that?”

Without missing a beat, Bucky deadpans, “100% beef.”

That sets Steve off again, and he leans over laughing, clutching his stomach with his free hand. Bucky’s giggling as well, giggling, and Steve is so, so glad he called. He can just imagine Bucky, sitting on his bed with a little bowl of cashew nuts in his lap, laughing with his head thrown back. What a gorgeous sight in his mind.

“You’re insane, Barnes,” Steve grits out through his smile, Bucky still catching his breath.

“What? It’s true! You’re putting in hard work at the gym and I’m just complimenting it, if anything you should be saying thank you!”

“Alright, alright. Thank you very much, Bucky, I appreciate it.”

“You better,” Bucky grumbles, and they both keep giggling for a bit longer. Steve is so charmed by this young man, he didn’t think this could even happen.

They sit in comfortable silence for a minute or two, their breathing audible through the speaker, before Bucky seemingly snaps out of it.

“Anyways, Captain, I’m off to bed now. I’ll be dreaming of my future as Stark’s top designer, just so you know. I’m coming for your throne!”

Steve is playing with the strings on his sweatpants, tying and untying a knot in the fabric. “I’ll gladly fight ya for it.”

“Cool,” Bucky mumbles, rustling audible on the other line, “When I see you, we’re fighting.”

“Deal.”

“Deal.”

“Cool.”

“Yeah, cool.”

“Go to sleep, Buck!” Steve laughs, and soon they hang up, Steve smiling at his phone fondly. He wipes his hand down his face, sighing heavily. Walking over to the bathroom, he splashes his face with cold water, looking at his reflection in the mirror.

This boy’s gonna be trouble, he knows. Somehow, he doesn’t mind.

***

Bucky busies himself successfully until Steve’s return, so by the time he’s walking through the glass doors of the company, he’s actually buzzing to see Steve again. It’s not like he’s that desperate usually, but he’s been having dreams. He feels like a teenager again, in the worst way possible, but at least he’ll be seeing the older man more often now, and his brain will hopefully shut up about him for a little while.

“Bucky!” Steve exclaims happily upon seeing the younger man, and he wills himself not to blush. He gracefully walks over to Steve’s desk and places a paper cup on it, Steve’s beverage of choice from Starbucks. Steve looks up at him with a smile. “You really didn’t have to.”

Bucky shrugs and grins. “Welcome back, Captain! Had to make sure you’re all set so you can successfully start handling Tony’s tantrums, seeing as you and Pepper are the only ones able to do that and Pepper is not in today.”

Steve winces slightly. “How bad is it?”

“He snapped at Natasha already.”

Steve’s eyes almost bulge out of his head. “And he’s still alive?”

Bucky rubs his chin in contemplation. “I think she’s started plotting revenge.”

Steve nods with a defeated sigh. “Alright then, I’ll finish this coffee and deal with Tony in a minute.”

Bucky nods solemnly and makes his way to his desk to start preparing documents for Steve’s meetings today. He needs to get everything in order so the other man can present everything without difficulties. Not even a minute after he’s sat down he hears his name being called from the other room. He gets up with a huff.

“Yes, Steve?”

“You still owe me a fight,” Steve reminds him, sipping on his coffee innocently, “How about today at lunch?”

Bucky feels his cheeks heat up slightly but he smiles. “You’re so on, Rogers.”

They both share a laugh and Bucky returns to his desk, shaking his head fondly. This is turning out to move faster than he expected. Good.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, so... this didn't take too long to write, I was too excited to drag it out. fair warning, though, don't get used to it.
> 
> I hope you enjoy reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it.
> 
> kudos and comments are always greatly appreciated xxx

If Steve didn’t know any better, he’d think Bucky’s flirting with him.

If Steve knew any better, he’d know he’s flirting back.

Thing is, the lines are a little blurred at this point. Sure, Bucky does still work for him and he does so excellently, never messing up and always making sure to fulfill his tasks quickly and efficiently, but now he’s also

the reoccurring events with Steve, which he has to be seen at for the benefit of their clients, and the fact that the busiest winter in years has had massive hits they just have to celebrate, he attends meetings and business dinners and the only reason for that is that Steve doesn’t wanna get bored. With Bucky, he never is.

So naturally, when Thor- a good friend of Steve and Tony and also Natasha- announces that he’s getting married and wants to whisk all of his loved ones away to his private island for an extended weekend of celebrations, Steve hopes he’ll let him take a plus one.

Stupid.

“Steven, I would love to have all of you there!” Thor announces loudly, making himself comfortable across from him, leaning his muscular arms on Steve’s mahogany desk.

“And we would love to be there, Thor. When are the exciting events taking place?” Steve smiles.

He’s very fond of Thor, and his fiancée Jane, as well. They make a lovely pair, and he’s genuinely happy for them. His mind flashes back to a wedding years ago, of smiles and laughter and a gorgeous bride with an elegant white dress on- simple yet breathtaking- of friends and family and children and kisses, so many kisses, exchanged mostly languidly, sometimes hastily and urgently like they couldn’t believe they made it that far, we did it, forever. Forever.

He snaps out of it quickly, willing his heartbeat to stop racing. This is not the appropriate time for this.

If Thor notices his slight distress, he doesn’t comment on it.

“We were thinking the first week of January, actually. You can all come to Asgard and escape the cruel New York winter, let the sun recharge you by the sea and get ready to come back home for new adventures. What say you, Steven?” Thor looks at him with a beaming smile, contagious even for a bitter man like Steve.

“That sounds delightful, Thor. Again, thank you for the invite, we all appreciate it greatly.”

Thor nods once and slams his hands down onto the desk, Steve will deny his jump at the sudden noise til the day he dies, and stands up with the confidence of a hundred kings. “Very well, then,” he says, “I will be making my way to Stark’s chambers now, Natasha’s after. I will be informing you as soon as possible, Steven Rogers. We await your presence!” And with that he saunters out into the hallway, raising his hand to Bucky in greeting and stepping into the elevator, disappearing behind the closing doors.

Steve rubs his temples. He adores Thor, he really does, but the man is loud and sometimes, he speaks in riddles. That’s more than Steve can handle at nine in the morning.

Bucky’s head pokes into the office, checking for visitors, and when he doesn’t spot anyone he tiptoes in, closing the door behind him quietly. It all looks very comical from where Steve’s perched on his office chair.

Bucky whips around with wide eyes. “Who was that?” he whisper-shouts, looking to his left and his right as if Thor will jump out behind the fake plant Steve keeps in the corner of his office.

“That was our dear friend Thor,” Steve explains with a smirk, crossing his arms across his chest. “He was here to deliver some news.”

“What kinda news?” Bucky keeps whispering, and Steve rolls his eyes.

“Why are you whispering? He went to Tony’s office, now.”

Bucky huffs exasperatedly, “I don’t want the hunk to hear me, it would be rude!”

Steve’s eyebrows shoot up into his hairline at Bucky’s vocabulary. The twinge in his stomach is not jealousy, nope. He clears his throat a little uncomfortably.

“Well, the hunk, as you so nicely put it, came to invite us to his wedding in January,” he explains.

Bucky nods in understanding. “A gay wedding?” Steve lets out a loud laugh and shakes his head no. Thor is a very affectionate person with all of them, but Steve is pretty sure he’s never met anyone more heterosexual than Thor Odinson. “Oh, man,” Bucky murmurs with a grin in his voice, “Would’ve been fun.”

“It’s gonna be fun regardless, I think,” he mumbles, sorting through his top drawer in search for today’s schedule. “Who knows, if you get in Thor’s good graces, he may invite you, too.”

“Nah,” Bucky says through a yawn, already turning to get back to his desk, “I’d rather just mooch off of you and tag along. If Mr. Muscle allows it, that is.”

Steve tries to ignore the fluttering of his tummy at the thought of Bucky there with him. It’s not like he wasn’t secretly wishing for it, anyway.

“I’ll see what I can do, Bucky,” he winks at him and Bucky shoots him a grin, closing the door behind him and leaving Steve with his thoughts.

Steve leans back in his chair and lets himself imagine for a second. Bucky and him on the beach, the sun kissing their skin and turning it a golden color, Bucky shirtless and wet in the water, swimming and moving his strong arms through the waves, walking out of the sea and jogging over into Steve’s waiting arms, their bodies colliding, their lips-

Nope. Nopety nope nope. He cannot go down that rabbit hole, not now and not ever. He can’t be thinking about any of this.

He risks a glance at his calendar, only one more month until January, one more month until he can relax and enjoy beautiful Asgard.

Until then, he has to overcome Christmas and New Year’s, though. Also, his incessant want for Bucky.

***

How does this damn microwave work? Is it even a microwave, or is it some futuristic ten-in-one meal making machine that Tony came up with? What if he ruins it and has to pay a bagillion dollars to Stark Industries?

These are all questions Bucky has to ask himself at this ungodly hour. Eleven a.m., to be exact. He just wants some damn pot noodles.

He glances to the door when he hears high heels clicking on the hard floor, only to see Natasha waltz in. He suppresses a hard swallow, he’s still somewhat afraid of her.

“James,” she nods and walks over to the fridge, opening it and taking a glass bottle with what seems to be water and cucumbers in it. She closes the fridge with her hip and takes a seat at the large table in the middle of the room, whipping out her phone and typing away hastily while her red lips curl around the metal straw. Bucky does swallow this time. Her presence has always made him a little nervous, her aura overall demands attention no matter what, and he can’t seem to take his eyes off of her.

Back when they worked together at the Red Room, he thought his attraction towards her was sexual. Now he knows it isn’t, not purely, it’s just that she understands him in a way nobody ever has. That’s the reason their friendship started in the first place, but also the reason why, in the end, it fell apart. They were too similar. He just wishes they could come to a point where they can look into each other’s eyes at least.

When he turns back to the microwave, his look no less puzzled than before, he just contemplates eating his noodles cold and hard and dry. And sad. That is, until he feels Natasha’s eyes on him, her hard stare making him turn around.

“What are you doing?” she asks coldly.

He looks to the side, uncomfortable and a little embarrassed. “Trying to make lunch.”

“And?”

He swallows. “And I can’t get the microwave to turn on.”

She rolls her eyes and turns back to her phone. “What are ya having?” She asks without looking up.

“Well, I would like to have pot noodles, but alas… I can’t really make them.”

“Jarvis!” she commands suddenly, making Bucky jump, “heat Bucky’s pot noodles up, please. Let him know when they’re ready.”

“Certainly, Ms. Romanoff,” comes Jarvis’ British accent, and Bucky looks up at the ceiling with a glare.

“You watched me struggle for five minutes and didn’t care to inform me that I could just ask you to turn it on for me?” he spits, heated now.

“To be fair, Sir, it was quite amusing.”

“You’re not real! Do you even get amused?”

His eyes snap to a giggling Natasha, before Jarvis answers with, “I will now be retreating, Sir. Your lunch is ready. Have a good one.”

With that he goes quiet and Bucky takes his meal out of the microwave with a huff. He sits across from Natasha and stirs his noodles with a frown. Stupid artificial intelligence. Stupid Jarvis. Stupid Natasha for laughing at him.

“Don’t worry about it, I didn’t know about it either, when I first started,” Natasha tells him, and for the first time since he started at Stark’s she’s talking to him normally, no bite in her words, “Tony likes to mess with his people like that.”

Bucky humphs. “Tony is a dumdum.”

That makes her laugh out loud, and Bucky really shouldn’t feel as proud of himself as he does. “He can be, yeah,” she says and gets up, taking her belongings and walking over to the door. “Have a good lunch, James.”

“Thanks,” he smiles softly, and blushes when she throws him a wink over her shoulder before disappearing down the hallway. She confuses him, The Widow always did, but he thinks he’s getting somewhere now.

The last thing he needs is another person to win over, though. He eats his noodles in silence.

It’s two days later and he’s sitting in his bathtub, enjoying a quiet night. Steve sent him home early and all Bucky has to do this weekend is update the contact list on the company’s server, a task that barely takes an hour. He likes this office life, honestly. He’s lucky that Steve makes sure to give him varying tasks so he’s not sitting at a desk all day. Sometimes he’s in the office doing office work, sometimes he’s at Steve’s apartment dropping things off, and sometimes he’s out and about in New York, running some errands for Steve. It’s a lot of fun, and he appreciates that his bosses- Steve and Tony, to be exact- aren’t all that demanding. He knows others don’t have that privilege.

He’s sipping on some pinot noir, soaking in warm water, the smell of the Epsom salts he likes to use wafting through the air. The Eagles are playing in the background and Bucky feels like a million dollars, relaxed and lush and overall amazing.

That is, until his phone starts ringing and silences the Spotify app that was gifting him such lovely tunes. He throws his head back and groans loudly, picking the device up and sitting up straighter in the tub when he sees Steve’s name flash across the screen.

He clears his throat and picks up. “Steve?”

“Hey, Bucky,” the older man greets him, his voice sounding a little muffled over the phone, “I’m calling because there’s a little- a problem. There’s a problem.”

Bucky furrows his brows in confusion. “A problem? What’s up? Are you okay, Steve?”

“Dandy,” Steve says, slurs, actually, and- oh. Oh!

“Steve, are you… drunk?” there’s a smile forming on Bucky’s face, mischievous and amused.

Steve starts cackling on the other line. “Drunk! No, ‘m not drunk.” Just when he says it, he lets out a little hiccup, making Bucky laugh. “Okay, maybe a lil, yeah…”

Bucky crosses one arm over his wet chest, leaning back in the tub. “Alright then, Bossman, what’s the problem?”

“You forgot your laptop, Mister,” Steve says accusingly, and Bucky can imagine him at his desk, pointing at nothing as if he were really talking to him.

“Oh, did I?” he asks with a frown. He could’ve sworn that he packed it.

“Yes, you did. No b-biggie, Bucky, but like… You do have some work you need to get- get done,” Steve scolds him, and Bucky would be more apologetic if the situation wasn’t so funny.

“You’re right, Steve,” Bucky says as he gets up and lets the water out of the tub, stepping over the edge and grabbing his white fluffy towel so he can dry off, “I’ll be there in about thirty minutes to get it, yeah? Sorry about that.”

“No!” Steve yells into the phone, and Bucky has to hold it away from his ear. That hurt a little. Steve goes on, ”No, don’t apologize, ‘m sorry for calling… sorry for all of this, it’s high- higherley- highly inappropriate.”

Bucky frowns yet again.

“Why’s that, Steve?”

“You were home already and I’m calling you back in. ‘s late.”

A glance at the clock tells him it’s almost ten p.m., not too late.

“It’s fine, Steve, really. I’d rather get it now than have to get up early tomorrow for it. Thank you for telling me.”

He walks into his room naked and opens his closet doors to find something casual to put on for his quick trip to the office building. Soft blue jeans and a plain white t-shirt will do. His jacket is warm enough anyways. He puts his phone between his shoulder and his cheek so he’s able to move his hands to get dressed.

“Steve?”

“Mmm, yes?”

Bucky suppresses a chuckle. “I’ll be there in less than an hour, alright? Sit tight.”

“Alright, Bucky,” Steve says, smile in his voice.

Bucky hangs up shortly after and calls a drive to get him to Manhattan. He leaves his apartment with a grin.

Less than an hour later he’s stepping out of the elevator, on his way to Steve’s office. He knocks once, twice, and walks in without waiting for permission to enter.

Steve is leaning on his desk with his head on his arms, eyes closed and a small smile on his lips. He must have heard Bucky walk in, he surely isn’t sleeping. Bucky walks over to him and nudges him gently, snorting when Steve’s face breaks out into a smile.

“You’re a terrible actor,” Bucky tells him and walks over to the small coffee table to the side of the room, taking the pitcher and pouring Steve a glass of water. He sets it next to Steve’s arm on the desk. He picks up the bottle of wine and reads the label, an already empty one next to it, mustering it all with disdain. “Drink up, big boy. Your head’s gonna kill you in the morning, jeez.”

Steve starts laughing for no apparent reason, looking up at Bucky and shaking his head. “Whatever, doesn’t matter,” he mumbles, shakily bringing the glass to his lips and sipping slowly.

Bucky leans against the desk next to him, looking down at his with a sigh. “What’s the occasion, then? What’s the fancy wine for?”

Steve sets the empty glass down again and leans back in his chair, exhaling deeply. He drives his hand through his hair and doesn’t say anything, his frown reveals enough. Bucky decides to press.

“C’mon, Steve. You alright?” he nudges him again, and again, and again. Gently, always gently. This is his chance, he thinks, now he can maybe get through to Steve and show him that Bucky is trustworthy, that he’s more than just one of Stark Industry’s minions. He wants to prove himself to Steve, wants to stand out from the masses that constantly seem to try to be around Steve, desperate for his attention. Steve is known and popular, in the company, in the city, all of New York, most of America knows his name. Bucky wants to belong to the tiny group that truly knows Steve Grant Rogers, though. He wants to be special to him. That realization throws him a little, but he swallows it down for now.

Steve looking up at him through hooded eyes is what snaps him back, a sad smile playing on his lips.

“I shouldn’t be telling you,” he slurs, his eyes closing again.

Bucky frowns. “Why not? You can trust me, you know that, right?” His credit card burns in the wallet in his pocket, the money Tony transfers to his account monthly sitting heavily on his conscious. He insisted on less, and had an argument about it with Tony a few weeks ago. He likes this job, he doesn’t want to milk this cash cow if there was no reason for it. The reality stays just that, though, reality. He swallows down his guilt and sets his eyes back on Steve.

“It’s not about trust, Buck,” Steve says, rubbing his hands over his face, sighing heavily. “Doesn’t matter, it’s none of your shit, really. Not gonna put it on you.” He looks up and gives Bucky a smile that doesn’t meet his eyes.

Alright, Bucky’s not gonna force him to spill the beans, honestly. He nods and looks out of the floor to ceiling windows for a second, admiring the skyline of New York. “Okay, well, let me know if anything changes and you do wanna talk about it, yeah? You can’t have it all on your shoulders all the time, Steve. Think of me as the Dalia for your soul, yeah?”

Steve nods slowly, chuckling. “Thank you, Bucky.” They sit there in comfortable silence for a few minutes, Bucky isn’t sure how much time exactly passes, but it’s not awkward. It feels peaceful. The New York City lights are bright under them.

“See this?” Bucky looks down when Steve speaks up, watching the older man open up the bottom drawer on the side of his desk and pull out a framed photograph. He wordlessly presses it into Bucky’s hand and sits back, reaching out to take the half full wine glass and empty it all in one gulp.

Bucky carefully turns the heavy white frame over and his heart drops into his stomach as soon as he takes a good look at the picture.

In the photo he can see Steve, younger than he is now, face frozen in a bright smile, his blue eyes twinkling with happiness. His hair is slicked back nicely, he’s wearing a fancy, expensive -looking suit, and his arms are reaching out from his body, reaching towards someone. Bucky’s eyes follow the lines of Steve’s strong hands and looks at the woman whose hand he’s holding in the picture. She’s beautiful. Her brown hair is curled into gentle locks, the veil placed elegantly and flowing over her shoulders, her cheekbones are prominent with the smile she’s sporting, wide and joyful, eyes closed in bliss. Her body looks petite in her pearl white dress, modest but chic, exactly perfect for a woman like her. They’re holding each other’s hands, laughing together, and Bucky has never seen a picture that radiates this much love and joy.

It’s Steve’s wedding picture.

Bucky takes it all in one more time, letting his thumb run over the white swirls of the frame, before turning it over again and setting it onto the desk face

down. Steve is still determinedly looking at one spot with unblinking eyes, his jaw twitching. Bucky isn’t sure what to say, so he says the first thing that comes to mind, hoping it’s not the wrong one.

“You look beautiful together,” he whispers into the fragile atmosphere.

Steve nods slowly, still not looking at him. “We do. Did.”

“How long ago was this?”

“’bout eight years ago, now.”

Bucky’s eyebrows shoot up. He didn’t know Steve got married that young, only two years older than Bucky is now. He couldn’t imagine getting married anytime soon.

“May I ask when it ended?”

Steve chuckles humorlessly, gaze slipping away from the spot he was so intently staring at. He reaches out to take the bottle and pour himself some wine into his glass, but Bucky’s hand on his stops him. He still doesn’t look at Bucky, but he takes his hand away without complaint.

“Our relationship or the marriage?” he asks, and his eyes are so, so empty. Bucky should’ve braced himself for a conversation this deep, but, oh well.

“Tell me about it, if you want,” he says gently and pulls the chair that’s usually across the desk closer to Steve’s chair, sitting next to him.

Steve looks him up and down with an unreadable expression, before looking away.

“We met at our university, we were both twenty. We hit it off immediately. Peggy… she’s so strong. Strong and assertive, and so, so smart. I’ve never met anyone that holds their own as well as she does, and she always had to, considering how she grew up, and her whole academic career she had to defend herself. Her massive talent, and knowledge, really.” He looks to the side, brining his thumb up to his lips and chewing on it a little, a nervous habit. “Her beauty’s breathtaking, always has been, but her personality. God, such a huge character,” he smiles a little, “I was enamored with her from the start, how could I not be? We started dating shortly after we met. Not sure what she

saw in me, we are fairly similar, I guess that was exciting. It was constant headbutting from the get go, but it always worked, it kept the spark alive for a long time. Until it didn’t. I asked her to marry me and we went and tied the knot at 25, but very quickly we realized that what brought us together, was slowly but surely tearing us apart.” Bucky immediately thinks of Natasha. “We were so success driven, starting out at the same company, in constant competition with each other. It made us bitter towards each other. I used to love how she always stood up for herself, but it turned into me hating her stubbornness and incapability to ever see her wrongdoings. She used to love my drive and hunger for something bigger in life, but that turned into arguments about why I was coming home late and never had time on the weekends. We both put work before our relationship, and by the time we were thirty, we were empty shells of human beings.” He sits up and cracks his knuckles before looking at Bucky. Bucky hasn’t been able to take his eyes off of him for the entirety of the story.

“We had it all, good jobs, a gorgeous apartment, seemingly endless money. It was a lot for both of us, we both had a humble upbringing, to say the least. But we just weren’t happy. Not with each other, not with ourselves. We were starting to bring out the worst in each other. It wasn’t working anymore.” He shrugs sheepishly, and looks out the window. “So, to answer your question, Bucky,” he chuckles hollowly, “the relationship ended around six years ago. We filed for divorce three years ago, we’ve been divorced for two years now.”

Bucky nods in understanding, heart heavy for Steve. He can’t lie, his tummy is churning in slight jealousy, but he knows it has no place here. He wills it down with little difficulty.

“Steve, may I ask you something?” he asks cautiously.

“Anything,” Steve says with a soft smile, somewhat real this time.

“Do you still love her?”

Steve exhales shakily, furrowing his brows in thought. He takes a second to answer. He settles on a no. “I don’t love her anymore. There are no hard feelings between us, but my love for her has been long gone. I keep our good moments in fond memory, and that’s enough for me.”

Bucky looks around in question, at the wine bottles and empty glasses and Steve’s condition, now a little sobered up. “So what’s this about, then, Steve?” He keeps his gaze gentle, and reaches out to touch Steve’s shoulder in comfort.

“Well, this is the result of Thor’s wedding invitation.” His cheeks are bright red, and Bucky will never get over how cute Steve looks when he’s blushing.

“I haven’t seen it, haven’t had my laptop, y’know?” Bucky winks and Steve laughs, shaking his head fondly.

“He sent it to my personal e-mail anyways, wait,” he takes his laptop and opens up the e-mail he got from Thor, “here, I’ll show you.”

Bucky scoots closer and ignores the way his thigh touches Steve’s, both of them looking at the screen. The video loads before it starts, showing Thor and Jane’s smiling faces, greeting their guests and announcing their wedding. They talk for a little bit and suddenly a list shows up on the right side of the frame, showing the dates and location of the celebration, everything seems very professionally made. When they say their goodbyes Bucky thinks it’s the end of the video, but he was greatly mistaken, because that’s when the montage starts. A montage of pictures and short clips of Thor and Jane’s relationship, their smiling faces in every frame, and the whole thing is a little ridiculous and a lot cheesy.

He looks over at Steve’s sheepish look, and nods in understanding. “Okay, fair. This really is over the top, I probably would’ve spiraled as well.”

That makes Steve laugh loudly, and he nods. “See? I’m totally not crazy!”

“Naaah, never,” Bucky smiles innocently, fakely, and laughs when Steve shoves his shoulder lightly.

“Oh, shut up,” he mumbles, closing his laptop shut. “No, but seriously. It’s not that I miss her, or anything. It’s just that…” he hesitates for a second before looking Bucky straight in the eye, “I’m not used to failing. And I failed my marriage big time. Doesn’t feel good.”

“Oh, Steve,” Bucky sighs and dares to put his arm around Steve’s shoulder, pulling him a little closer. He’s glad that Steve doesn’t tense up uncomfortably. “You didn’t fail your marriage, not really, sometimes things just don’t work out. You didn’t fail yourself, and that’s the most important part. You would have, if

you had stayed in a situation that made you miserable, but you didn’t. And that’s what counts, here.”

Steve looks at him unsurely, but he’s not protesting. “Fair enough.” Bucky then takes his arm away and sits up in his chair, clapping Steve on the shoulder once.

“Don’t you worry about it, Bossman! We’ll get you a cute little lady who’ll warm good ole Steve Rogers’ cold heart, I’m sure!” He puts a smile on that he isn’t really feeling, but it doesn’t matter. This is for Steve’s benefit anyways.

“Honestly,” Steve starts, blushing and not meeting Bucky’s eyes, ”Wouldn’t mind a cute fella either.”

Bucky’s heart starts hammering in his chest and he prays that Steve doesn’t notice his sudden nervousness, but he can’t help it at all. He can feel his face heat up a little, but he plays it cool. He smiles cheekily and tells him, “Or a fella. That’s gonna be manageable.”

With that he stands up and returns the chair to its original position, clapping his hands together once and smiling. “Alright, now. I’m gonna be on my way now, I still have some work to do. Jarvis?”

“Yes, Sir?” comes the voice above them.

“Please call a driver to pick Captain up, and make sure he gets home safe.”

“Of course, a driver will be here shortly.”

Bucky puts his jacket on and smiles at Steve. “Get home, get some sleep, drink a lot of water. Wouldn’t wanna lose you tonight.”

Steve laughs and walks to the coat rack by the office door. “Will do, but I’m feeling a lot better already. Don’t you forget your laptop!”

They both walk to the elevator, Bucky snagging the laptop from his table on the way, and the ride down is silent. When they reach the huge class doors of the building, they see Steve’s driver already waiting out front. The older man turns to him with a pink tinge to his cheeks, but his expression is relaxed.

“Bucky, I wanted to say thank you for everything tonight. I know it wasn’t the most appropriate of moments-“

“Steve,” Bucky interrupts him, “you don’t need to apologize for anything, or thank me, for that matter. I may be your assistant, but don’t forget the ‘personal’ in front of it. I’m here for more than just office work, yeah?” It’s maybe a little too honest. Bucky isn’t sure he cares.

Steve deflates slightly and breathes out, nodding his head. “I appreciate it, Buck. You too, by the way. I’m here for you, too.”

Bucky smiles. “Thank you, Steve.”

They both move at the same time, easily and comfortably, embracing tightly without a second thought. Steve pats him on the back once, twice, before they part and Steve walks out of the building without another word. He glances back at Bucky one last time, smiling, before he gets in the car.

Bucky raises his hand in a wave and watches the car drive away. When he’s sure Steve is gone, he throws his head back and lets out a long guttural groan. “I am so fucked!” he yells to nobody in particular.

“Probably,” Jarvis agrees with him out of nowhere, making Bucky laugh until his knees give out.

***

It’s not that Steve is embarrassed exactly, it’s just that it’s hard for him to believe that Bucky can be that easy going, open minded enough to let Steve cry on his shoulder and not bat an eye at it despite the fact that they’re not that close. Steve is Bucky’s boss, for fuck’s sake. He’s not sure if he’s being inappropriate, but he’s also not sure if he cares much. He enjoys Bucky’s company, and now that he’s seen Steve emotional and isn’t scared off, Steve isn’t sure if he’s okay with just leaving it at that. He thinks he might want to get even closer. He doesn’t know if he should.

That is why, when Thor sends them all an update and tells them they’re all allowed to bring a date to the wedding, he goes to Natasha first.

He barges into her office and blurts “How dumb would it be if I asked Bucky to attend Thor’s wedding with me?”

She looks up at him with one raised eyebrow, setting the pen she was holding down and leaning back in her chair.

“Close the door,” she demands and he does, “sit down,” he does that as well, “listen to me.”

He obeys without a word.

“What are your intentions with James?” she asks him coldly, and he stops at that question. What are his intentions? Does he even have any?

“I… like him, and I enjoy his company. I think he’d like Asgard, and I don’t wanna be alone there.” He decides to be as honest as he can, with Natasha and himself.

She nods slowly, her gaze not wavering. “You wouldn’t be alone, we’d be there.”

He rolls his eyes. “I’d be surrounded by couples. Not the best way to spend a holiday as a single man.”

She considers for a moment. “Alright. You said you like him. How do you like him?”

He frowns. “I don’t know? I think he’s attractive, but I’m not pursuing him like that.” Not yet, at least.

Natasha sighs heavily and lets her stance relax, leaning forward and looking at him warmly. “Steve, he’s a good guy. If you wanna ask him as a friend, sure, go for it. If it’s anything more than that, however…,” she hesitates, looking over his shoulder and back at him, “I don’t trust him too much.”

This is why he came to Natasha and not Tony. Firstly, he knows Natasha wouldn’t make a big deal out of it, and also, she’s honest and straight to the point without being mean. That’s exactly what Steve needs at times like these.

He shrugs. “I think I can take care of myself, Nat. But honestly, you don’t think it’s inappropriate?”

“Nah, Tony wanted to invite him along anyway.” At Steve’s surprised look, she elaborates, “Steve, he gets along with pretty much everyone here. Tony and Pepper have loved him from the start, he’s become Clint’s favorite gym buddy, and I’m pretty sure he’s already managed to charm Thor over messages. He’s great fun.”

Steve’s eyes narrow. “I thought you didn’t like him.”

She shrugs without giving anything away. “I don’t dislike him, but I have my reasons for my attitude. We have history, you know.”

“Will you ever tell me about it?” At her unimpressed look, he chuckles. “Okay, sorry, fair enough.”

She smiles sweetly and pats the back of his hand. “It’ll be alright, Steve. Go ask him, he’ll like that you did instead of Tony.”

He nods and thanks her, walking out of the office with his stomach in knots. This man, he swears. Making him feel like a teenager again and shit. With a determined tilt to his mouth, he makes his way back onto his floor, ready to talk to Bucky.

“Hey, you got a minute?”

Bucky looks up from the screen, nodding and wordlessly following Steve into his office. He shuts the door behind him and goes to stand behind the chair, leaning against it with his arms crossed.

“What’s up, Captain?”

Steve sits down at his desk and crosses his legs. “You haven’t taken a holiday yet,” is what he starts with, and Bucky nods.

“Didn’t really need one, honestly. Seeing as you’ve only recently started letting me do proper work around here.” His smirk is teasing and it makes Steve roll his eyes fondly.

“Well, now you do!” he laughs, “But anyways, that’s not too bad, because that means that your contract can’t stop you from going to Asgard with us for Thor wedding.” He waits a beat and adds, “If you want.”

Bucky’s eyes are wide as saucers. “Really? You want me to come with you?”

Steve chuckles at his eagerness. “Yeah, Buck. Would love to have you there.” He knowingly leaves out the ‘we’.

Bucky straightens up and beams at Steve, nodding his head frantically. “I’d love to go, if you’re really sure you wanna take me! I’ve seen some pictures of the island Thor sent me, it looks wonderful there!”

“It really is, it’s one of the most beautiful places I’ve ever been. We’re lucky Thor invites us every now and then.”

Suddenly, Bucky tenses up all over, making Steve frown.

“Steve,” he whispers, “what am I gonna _wear_?”

That pulls another laugh from Steve. “We’ll discuss what we’re gonna be packing and all the other details when the time comes, don’t you worry about it. For now I’m just glad you’re joining us.” The smile he gives Bucky is gentle, and he hopes Bucky can’t see right through him, hopes he can’t see the utter fondness he has for this boy. Steve is embarrassing, really.

Bucky smiles right back.

“I’m so glad, too. Thank you, Steve, really. It means a lot.”

They look at each other for a few moments, just smiling dumbly, before Jarvis speaks up and snaps them out of it.

“Mr. Rogers? Mr. Stark wants to see you in his office as soon as possible.”

Steve clears his throat and gets up, thanking Jarvis and walking out of the office with Bucky in tow.

They give each other a nod as they part with a smile, and Steve gets into the elevator. He tells himself that the butterflies he’s feeling are the result of a heavy lunch.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright, here it is... another one. I should be studying instead of writing, but, oh well.
> 
> I just wanted to address something that I saw a writer in another fic say, just to avoid any misunderstandings. said writer, I'm not gonna name them, stated that they were uncomfortable using words such as "hooker" or "prostitute", instead using the word "sex worker", which I don't always do.
> 
> being a sex worker myself, I do not get offended at the aforementioned terms, and neither does my character, Bucky, in this case. I do not mean to use those terms in a negative way. I just wanted to clarify that in case anyone sees that as offensive language, and I do not mean to make anyone uncomfortable. if that is the case, however, please let me know and I will be changing that.
> 
> furthermore, this chapter and the next will include Steve's late mother, if mentions of minor character death trigger anybody, please read with caution. 
> 
> without further ado, here is the next chapter, I hope you all like it!
> 
> kudos and comments are always appreciated, thank you! xxx

Time flies faster than anticipated. When Stark Industries shakes up the market with a new StarkPhone and does crazy numbers with it, Steve is mostly busy with press conferences and celebrations, so much that he completely loses sight of two of the most important celebrations of the year, according to some people. Thanksgiving and Christmas.

Steve doesn’t like Thanksgiving very much, mainly because his sick body didn’t allow him to properly celebrate one until he was around 24 and finally got his health under control. Christmas, however, is a holiday he dreads every single year, and no matter how much time he takes to brace himself for it, he’s never ready.

Christmas was his mama’s favorite holiday.

They spent it at home together, every single year, celebrating Christmas with his mother is the earliest memory Steve has. Every year was the same, too: she would wake him up with a cold hand on his cheek- no matter how old he was, they always followed tradition- and she’d say, “C’mon, Stevie, the snow outside is beautiful,” and he’d jump out of bed and quickly get his sweater on, some fuzzy socks, his winter boots. On the way to the balcony his mama would stop him to press a mug of hot chocolate into his hand, and they’d silently watch the snow fall. If there was no snow that year, they’d just enjoy the buzzing of Brooklyn. Every year without fail, Steve would nuzzle into his mother’s neck, and whisper a quiet, “Merry Christmas, Mama,” which she would warmly return. Then came the huge breakfast, and then the unpacking of the presents, because Steve for sure got his eagerness for the holiday spirit from his mama, and then they’d sing Christmas songs off-key while preparing lunch. While lunch was on the stove, they’d watch old Christmas movies, still in their pj’s, only changing out of them and into fancier clothes once lunch was ready, just to honor the holiday. They’d say a prayer before digging into their food- roast turkey with homemade mash on the side, the stuffing delicious as always, cranberry sauce and yams not to be forgotten- too much food for the both of them, but his mother always insisted on taking leftovers to the couple living down the hall, two college students who could barely afford groceries on a weekly basis.

They’d laugh and talk and smile together, before settling down on the couch for their dessert, mother’s apple pie, the best Steve’s had in his life. When they were happy and full, they’d wrap themselves up in warm clothes and take a walk through the neighborhood, stopping by some friend’s houses to wish them a happy Christmas, before returning home and letting the evening bleed into the night with happy movies and funny stories.

Steve used to love Christmas, so did his mama.

His mama died when Steve was 22 years old, and he hasn’t had a proper Christmas celebration since.

Just thinking about it, all alone in his bedroom, sends tears rushing to his eyes, but he clears his throat and wills them away stubbornly. His mama would hate to see him cry like this, so he tries not to. He’ll cry when the day comes, anyways.

Straightening his tie, Steve spritzes some cologne on his neck and sighs deeply, grabbing his jacket and exiting his apartment to get into the car waiting for him so he can get to Tony and Pepper’s place.

Thanksgiving isn’t horrible, not as much, the day still pains him but he can get through it, can keep it together enough to actually spend it with people. He has a little gift bag in his hand, a bottle of wine and a box filled with cookies he made himself, so he wouldn’t show up empty-handed. This year, he’s even looking forward to the dinner a little bit. Being swamped at work the past months has him grateful that he gets to relax a little now, and he knows that better days are to come.

Pulling up to the driveway of Tony’s huge mansion, the gates opening and letting the car through, Steve takes one last shaky breath before thanking the driver and making his way up the steps to ring the bell.

The doors automatically open, and Steve hears Jarvis’ voice greet him politely. He says his own hello briefly and suddenly he’s being swooped up into someone’s embrace, body tensing slightly before realizing who it is.

“Sam,” he exhales and tightens his arms around the man.

He gets no reply but they stand there hugging for what feels like hours. Sam is one of Steve’s best friends, and has been for quite a while now, but they haven’t seen each other in a long time. They did call each other occasionally, on the phone or over video chat, but it was never the same. Steve understands, though. Sam needed to get away from New York.

When they pull away, he sees that Sam has tears in his eyes, and he guesses he doesn’t look much different, either.

“So good to see you, man,” Steve says while gripping Sam’s shoulder, and the other man gives him a wet laugh.

“You too, Stevie. So fuckin’ good.”

They just stand there and smile at each other, but before either of them can say anything more, Tony waltzes into the room with his arms spread.

“Surprise, Cap!” he deadpans and Steve laughs heartily, hugging Tony as well.

“Damn, you really got me there,” he says and hands the gift bag to Tony. “Thank you.” He says the last part quietly and Tony just shoots him a quick wink before making his way into the kitchen to put Steve’s little gift away.

Steve and Sam go into the living room to greet the others, Bruce and Clint are sitting on the sofa, Natasha between them, Pepper is on a comfy chair next to where Tony’s place must be, and Maria can be seen standing by the door that leads out into the garden, peeking out at the drizzle falling slowly.

Steve greets them all one by one, and before he knows it, Tony is telling them that dinner is ready and served and they make their way into the dining room, chatting idly on their way.

“God, this is so good! _So good_!” Clint moans around a forkful of turkey and makes everyone chuckle, Tony promising that he’ll forward the compliment to his personal chef.

They eat comfortably and sometimes talk in between, Steve never saying more than a few words, though. His eyes are trained on Sam sitting across from him, seeming at ease, which Steve hasn’t seen in him in years. But then again, he hasn’t seen Sam in years.

Sam meets his eyes a couple of times and smiles at him warmly, and Steve is so, so glad that he decided to show up.

When they’re done with food, Pepper and Tony bring out dessert: pies in every flavor possible, making the rest of the group groan.

“You’re gonna have to roll me out of here,” Natasha complains, but keeps eyeing the pies with hunger in her gaze.

“Also,” Tony says when he re-enters the dining room, “Steve brought homemade cookies, so we gotta finish those as well.”

Pepper’s eyes snap to him and she coos, coming over to plant a peck onto his cheek. “Steve, you didn’t have to.”

He shrugs sheepishly and gives her a smile. “I had time, and I know how much you dislike pie. Can’t have you eat nothin’ sweet after such an amazing meal, Pepper.”

She beams at him and squeezes his shoulder before walking over to her husband and helping him cut into the pies to give everyone a piece. He looks over at Natasha and she winks at him affectionately.

All in all, the evening is good.

They’re in the middle of a karaoke marathon when Steve excuses himself and heads outside for a bit of fresh air, the crisp atmosphere a welcome change. He loves his friends dearly, but sometimes they’re too loud for him to handle, and that’s usually when he takes a break for a minute. Sam must’ve followed him because a few moments later, he’s by Steve’s side, standing in front of Tony’s front door.

“Hey, big man, you alright?” Sam asks and puts a comforting hand on Steve’s lower back.

Steve gives him the side eye. “Could ask you the same.”

Sam just shrugs. “It could be better, honestly. Worse, too, though.”

Steve nods, he has a point.

They stand there in silence and stare straight ahead for what feels like forever, and it isn’t awkward, but it isn’t quite comfortable, either. Steve isn’t used to limbo, not with Sam, so he speaks up.

“No, really, though. How are you?”

He hears Sam exhale shakily and waits for the other man to be ready to talk. After a while he does, his voice a little weak. “It’s not good, Steve. I’m not gonna lie to you,” he looks up at his friend then before shrugging, “but it’s better.”

Steve nods slowly and puts his arm around Sam’s shoulder, pulling him in slightly. Sam’s head rests on his shoulder and together they just stand there and breathe.

“Steve?”

“Hm?”

“How do you…” Sam cuts himself off and takes a while to finish his sentence. When he does, it’s like a light punch to Steve’s gut. “How can you stand to get through holidays? When all you wanna do is burn the world that took her from you?”

Steve closes his eyes and counts to five in his head. When he opens them, Sam is looking at him, genuine curiosity in his gaze. Sam doesn’t mean to hurt him, but he really needs to know. Steve lost someone he loves, so did Sam, only Steve has been living with that loss a lot longer.

His arm tightens around his friend.

“I’m not quite sure, pal,” he decides to go with the honest-to-God truth, “I don’t like spending Christmas with people, even though company would probably help. I don’t wanna do that day without her, I can’t. I’m so scared, Sam,” his voice catches and when he looks down, he sees that Sam already has tears streaming down his face. “I won’t say that it’s good because it isn’t, not this time of year, but it gets easier. Last year I lit a candle and had dinner by myself, but I sang mama’s favorite Christmas song while doing the dishes. It was the first time I didn’t spend the day in bed since she left… and Sam, it may not be good, but you have to make it bearable for yourself, in any way you can.” He turns to the other man and puts his hands on his shoulders, so they’re looking into each other’s eyes, both wet with tears. “You have to do it, for Riley.”

At the mention of his name, Sam’s face crumbles and before he knows it, Steve is pulling him into his chest and holding him close, letting him sob while he comforts him as best as he can.

Steve doesn’t believe in sugar coating the truth, and he knows that Sam isn’t hurt by what Steve said. The man is just hurting in general, and has been for the past three years, ever since Riley passed away.

Steve hates that this is the first time in those three years that he gets to hold his friend.

When they both have calmed down a little, they pull away from each other and chuckle wetly, wiping at their cheeks.

“C’mon, now. We gotta beat Clint and Natasha at least, or we’ll never hear the end of it,” Sam says, and Steve throws his arm around his shoulder and together they head inside.

It isn’t good, but it’s bearable.

***

Bucky, however, is stressed the fuck out.

He spent all day cooking, _cooking_ , which is something he doesn’t do, ever. He made turkey and mashed potatoes and peas and even pie, which took longer than it had any right to and it does not look like the pie on the yummy mummy blog he found the recipe on (thanks for nothing, Janice). All in all, he just hopes the evening won’t be a disaster.

He’s in the middle of pouring apple juice into a pitcher when he hears the doorbell ring, and his face instantly lights up with a smile. Bucky straightens his crisp white dress shirt one last time before walking over to the door and opening it, revealing Becca and his little niece, dressed in cute red matching dresses.

“Bucky!” the little one shouts and immediately jumps into his arms, and he lifts her up to hug her tightly to his chest.

“Hey there, Livi!” he laughs and spins her around once, twice, before setting her down and stepping up to his sister so he can give her a hug as well.

“You both look dashing,” he says when they separate and he takes Becca’s coat to hang it up. She walks over to Olivia to help her take her shoes and jacket off, smiling over at Bucky.

“You’re one to talk, I didn’t even know you could clean up this well.”

He levels her with a look which makes her burst out laughing, Olivia immediately mimicking her mother without really knowing what’s going on. He throws his hands up in the air in mock defeat.

“And here I was,” he yells, “slaving away all day, cooking for my family, and this is what I get! Nice!”

Becca and Livi are still laughing, but his sister walks over to him to ruffle his hair, making him grumble. “There, there,” she coos, “you did a great job. I’m proud.”

Olivia starts jumping up and down, yelling “proud!” over and over, making the adults chuckle fondly.

Once they’ve settled down and taken their seats at the table, Bucky goes into the kitchen to bring the food out, and Becca’s eyes widen.

“Wow, Bucky! This looks really good! You made this all by yourself?”

He runs his hand through his hair sheepishly, shrugging. “Yeah… took me a while, but I hope it’s good.”

She smiles at him warmly and nods. “It is for sure.”

They fill their plates to the brim, Becca helping Olivia of course, and they dig in enthusiastically. Olivia starts picking the peas up one by one with her fingers, which earns her a scolding from her mother.

“Olivia, this is not how we behave at the dinner table!”

Bucky just laughs along with Olivia’s squeaky giggles, before schooling his expression into something more strict.

“Listen to what mommy says, Livi. Use your fork like a big girl.”

Olivia looks at him wide eyed before nodding eagerly and grabbing her fork, digging it into the vegetables one by one.

Becca shoots him a fond eye roll. “Uncle of the year,” she mutters over the rim of her wine glass.

He just laughs and takes a sip of his own drink.

After a while of comfortable silence, Becca breaks it.

“So, tell me. How have ya been? How’s that new job treating ya?”

Mouth still full, he finishes chewing while he nods slowly. “Yeah, quite well, actually,” he says, smacking his lips, “I really like it there.”

“I saw a picture from one of Stark’s events online, y’know,” she smirks, playing at casual, ”You were standing there with that Rogers fella. Looked quite cozy to me.”

He rolls his eyes at his little sister’s remarks, but can’t help the laugh that escapes his lips. Becca knows about his profession, of course. When she became pregnant at the age of seventeen and their parents kicked her out, Bucky didn’t have to think twice about leaving home to be with his sister and help her out in any way he could. When he felt comfortable enough to move back to New York and picked up the job at the Red Room, finding that escorting was a business he felt very comfortable in, Becca didn’t stop him, but voiced her concerns clearly and loudly, all throughout these years.

It’s not like she was judging him, but she was petrified at the idea of something bad happening to her big brother. That’s when he knew he had to get innovative, pairing up with a security company based in New York City, finding ways to ensure that he was safe no matter where he went, and that if, God forbid, something did happen to him, the people responsible would be caught. His security deals cost him a pretty penny a month, but it’s worth it now that he knows that his sister can sleep soundly at night.

Bucky moved out almost three years ago after ensuring that he and his sister were both financially stable, and sometimes he even misses when they shared an apartment. It was fun, he always had someone he loved around him, a far cry from the loneliness in his current four walls.

Snapping back to the present moment, he forces a cheeky smile onto his lips. Becca, of course, does not know about his deal with Tony. As far as she’s concerned, Bucky just got tired of the same old and decided to get a more secure job. He’d like to keep it that way.

“I’m his PA, Becs, it would be weird if we weren’t comfortable with each other.”

“Whatever you say, big guy,” she sing songs over her shoulder as she’s wiping Olivia’s face with a napkin. The little girl has smeared cranberry sauce all over her cheeks, giggling in delight.

“Well, someone’s being a messy little monster!” Bucky exclaims playfully, and Olivia bursts out laughing.

“Mommy is helping me clean,” she explains as she juts her lip out so Becca can swipe the napkin over it.

“Such a good mommy,” Bucky says, and he means it. Rebecca is one hell of a strong woman, and the best mother Bucky knows. He admires her endlessly.

“The best!” Olivia yells and puckers her lips up, which makes Becca lean in and let her daughter give her a peck on the cheek. She returns one on Olivia’s forehead.

“There, all clean. Now finish your mashed potatoes, little missy.”

Olivia obeys wordlessly and digs in happily. It makes Bucky chuckle.

“What about you, though? How’s life, how’s the job?”

Becca sighs deeply, shrugging. “Same old, really. The café is doing well enough, I’m keeping busy, the little one is keeping me on my toes as well… I can’t complain, really. I miss Brooklyn, though.”

Bucky nods, understanding. He struggled with the new surroundings when he left New York with Becca, they moved to a friend in Boston, but it just wasn’t the same. They were both Brooklyn kids through and through.

“You can always come visit, you know that, right?”

She nods silently, and Bucky can see that she’s thinking hard about something, but he doesn’t press. He knows his sister.

“You know, I was thinking… I was thinking about moving back. Here.” Bucky almost chokes on his drink, his eyes bugging out of his head, but she doesn’t look at him, fiddling with Olivia’s pig tails.

“Rebecca! That would be great!”

That’s when she looks up with an uncertain smile, a glint in her eyes.

“Yeah? I really want to, y’know…” She clears her throat and straightens up. “I mean, not now, obviously, but… I want Livi to start school here, I think. So. In two years, like. I think it would be good for us.”

Not being able to contain his wide smile, Bucky gets up and circles the table to stand behind his sister and wrap his arms around her from behind. He sways her from side to side for a minute before picking up a confused Olivia, making her giggle in the process.

“Cuddle time?” she asks delightedly, and he laughs.

“Yes, cuddle time! And pie time!” He exaggerates his excitement which makes her shriek loudly, flailing her arms. She loves pie.

They move to the couch and Bucky puts three slices of the apple pie onto three plates to bring them to the living room. Olivia is fiddling with the remote of the TV that is turned off, just to press some buttons for fun.

His niece doesn’t talk much, mostly a quiet kid, but she’s so curious and creative and smart. Bucky can’t wait to watch her grow up. They chat a little more while finishing their deserts before Bucky gets an idea.

“Hey, Livi, come here a sec,” he says and the toddler makes her way to him, climbing into his lap when he pats the space there. He grabs his phone and holds it in front of their faces. “Say cheese!” he instructs and Olivia shoots a huge grin at the camera, dragging out her “cheeeese!” while Bucky snaps a pic. Happy with the result, he taps Steve’s contact and sends the picture, captions it _“Meet your successor, Steve. She’s gonna kick your ass off the Stark Industries throne.”_

He laughs at his own joke before sending the text, adding a Happy Thanksgiving for good measure, before putting his phone to the side and poking his hands into Olivia’s ribs, tickling her for a coupla seconds just to hear her laugh.

His phone lights up with a text not two minutes later, and he picks it up to see that Steve has already replied. Smiling, he opens the message. It’s a selfie of a smiling Steve with his thumb up, captioned _She seems like a worthy replacement. Happy Thanksgiving Buck, hope you have a good one._

Bucky lets out a little laugh and shakes his head fondly, locking his phone to put it away for the rest of the evening.

When he’s done he looks up and sees his sister give him a knowing grin.

“What? What, Becs?” he asks a second time when she just shakes her head, grin still firmly plastered on her face.

“Nothing, “ she comments, taking another sip of her wine, “just cozy, ‘s all.”

Bucky rolls his eyes with a playful groan, pulling his niece closer and pecking the top of her head. “Your mommy is being weird, Livi. Tell her she’s being weird,” he instructs and bursts out laughing when Olivia actually does it.

At her mother’s raised eyebrow she just shrugs. “Uncle Bucky said I should! You said I always have to listen to Uncle Bucky!”

Becca scoffs. “Not always,” she mutters, but laughs as well. “Nah, but seriously. What’s up with you two? You sweet on ‘im or something?”

Bucky hates how well she knows him. He shakes his head, going for vague. “He’s nice, he’s attractive. But he’s also my boss, so there ain’t sh-“ his eyes dart to an oblivious Livi who’s fiddling with Bucky’s watch that she found on the shelf next to the TV, “-um, shoot… I can do about it.”

Becca looks at him, endlessly amused, and shrugs. “Shame, really. Seems like a good fella, him.”

Bucky nods, taking a long sip of his red wine. “You got no idea,” he mutters, but Becca lets it go for now. He hates lying to his sister, but the less people know about this, the better. He doesn’t need her to make him feel guilty, and she for sure would. She could even get him to crack and leave the situation altogether, which is the last thing he needs right now. Bucky needs Tony’s money, and by extension, so does Becca. He’ll keep his mouth shut about this situation for as long as he can.

Becca and Olivia sleep at his place, and Bucky insists they take his bed, which leaves the couch for him. Before he drifts off, he can hear Livi’s happy laugh coming from his room, no doubt acting silly with her mom, and he falls asleep thinking of a big house, children’s laughter, and a broad shoulder to lean on.

A couple days pass and Stark Industries gets more and more into the Christmas spirit, decorating the offices and even announcing a lavish Christmas party that will take place a week before the actual day. Bucky is excited, because not only does he get to eat fancy food and drink expensive alcohol on the company’s dime, but he also gets to spend time with Steve.

They haven’t seen each other much since the days before Thanksgiving, Steve came down with a cold last week and opted to work from home, but now that he’s all better, Bucky can’t wait to see him. Genuinely. He doesn’t want to think about what that means.

“You said yes to coming to Asgard with us, right?” Tony asks him while Bucky is tearing open two sugar packets and dumping them into his coffee, Tony makes a disgusted face at him.

“Yup,” he pops the ‘p’, “if that’s still alright.”

“Of course, Popsicle, wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Bucky looks at him unimpressed. “The names are getting worse.”

Tony shrugs sheepishly, still eyeing Bucky’s cup with distaste. “I’m running out of ideas. The names just need to be funny and… winter… related.”

“Popsicles in winter?”

“Winter entails snow, snow is cold, so is a popsicle- it makes sense! How dare you question my genius?” Tony’s glare would be funny if it weren’t so genuine, and Bucky bites back a laugh.

“Alright, alright, you win. I’m sorry I insulted you, Mister Genius.”

“Oh no, Bucky, don’t indulge him, he’ll get an ego,” comes Steve’s whine and both Bucky and Tony turn their heads to see Steve enter the kitchen.

Tony rolls his eyes in exasperation and Bucky just smiles. “I have to, Steve,” Bucky shrugs, “I’d quite like to keep this job.”

“Damn right!” Tony yells and slaps his hand down on the kitchen counter, straightening up and walking towards the door. “Speaking of jobs, I have one to do. See ya later, kids, and don’t forget to RSVP to the Christmas party

invitation!” With that he’s out of the room, leaving Bucky alone there with Steve.

He smiles and goes back to stirring his coffee while Steve opens the fridge and rummages through it in search of something.

“I can’t believe this,” he mutters under his breath and Bucky looks at him from the corner of his eye.

“Something wrong, cap?”

Steve closes the fridge and sighs deeply, eyes closed and a frown on his face. “I had a chocolate bar left and I was really looking forward to eating it. Someone else got there before me, though.” He says it with such utter sadness and despair, that Bucky can’t burst out laughing. It’s like Steve’s world has ended, and right now, he reminds Bucky a lot of Olivia when she’s inconvenienced by something.

Steve quirks his eyebrows and gives Bucky a faux irritated look when the younger man doesn’t stop laughing. “What? What is it? I’ll have you know, I take my candy very seriously!”

Bucky shakes his head and grabs his cup before exiting the room, motioning for Steve to follow him, which he does wordlessly. They walk over to Bucky’s desk where he pulls his top drawer open and reveals a collection of candy: chocolates, cookies, gummies. Steve is staring at the pile of goodies like he just saw God himself appear before him.

“Take ya pick,” Bucky chuckles with a smirk on his face, “I take my candy very, very seriously as well, I’ll have ya know. There’s no messing around with my sweet tooth.”

Steve looks at him with a glint in his eyes, looking him up and down, before his eyes drift back to the candy in front of him. “Is that so, huh? I’ll remember that.” He says it quietly, making something in Bucky’s stomach tighten, before he reaches out and grabs a _Twix_ bar, his grin widening.

“Thanks, Buck! I appreciate it.”

“You’re very welcome,” he smiles and shuts the drawer closed, “I know how you old men are, gotta keep an eye on those blood sugar levels and a

Steve’s mouth drops open in a silent gasp and Bucky’s gone yet again, bursting out laughing while clutching his stomach. Well, at least he’s getting an ab workout in today.

“Very funny, Buck,” Steve rolls his eyes, no heat behind it. “I’ll show you old!”

“Oh, man,” Bucky is slowly calming down, some giggles here and there still leaving his mouth, “You kill me, Steve.”

Steve gives him a little laugh before clearing his throat. “So… you are going to the Christmas party, right?”

“Yeah, of course! Wouldn’t wanna miss it! Christmas is my favorite time of year.” He sees something sour cross Steve’s face at that, wondering what he said wrong. He lets it go, though.

“Good, good,” Steve mutters, “well, I’ll be seeing you then for sure. Should we drive over together again?”

Bucky’s smiles softens, his heart beating a tad faster. “Yes, that would be lovely. Maybe we’ll actually get ya to dance with a dame this time, huh?”

Steve looks at him with a deadpan expression, a small smile playing on his lips. “Told you, I’m a horrible dancer. Wouldn’t wanna subject no dame to that.”

Bucky elbows him in the ribs gently. “Oh, c’mon! You just have to learn, Steve! I could teach you, but you won’t let me!”

He’s teasing, mostly. He has asked Steve for a dance multiple times, the older man always refusing, saying he wouldn’t want to make a fool of himself, but now Bucky sees that Steve is actually considering it. Jackpot.

“Wouldn’t wanna subject you to it, either, but hey… If you get me drunk enough, I might bust out some moves for you.” He’s blushing slightly and Bucky barks out a laugh, clapping a hand on Steve’s muscular shoulder and leaving it there for a beat.

“Can’t wait, bossman.” Bucky throws him a little wink and enjoys watching the red on his face darken, before he clears his throat and points to the door to his office.

“I gotta get going now, but let me know about the party and I’ll see you then?”

Bucky nods enthusiastically. “Sir, yessir!”

Steve laughs loudly and backs away slowly, before a cheeky grin spreads across his face.

“Still the wrong title,” he sing songs before disappearing behind the door.

Bucky’s jaw drops. This man is gonna be the death of him, he just knows it. But, man, what a way to go.

***

The day of the party, Steve is actually a little nervous, and he knows exactly why.

Stark’s holiday parties are a huge deal, a magazine once compared them to the MET Gala of the tech world, and Steve couldn’t agree more. It is generally a party for all of Stark’s employees, associates, business partners, the lot. Which in turn means, not only is he hosting the party for the team of Stark Industries, but also for SHIELD employees. Meaning… Peggy will be there.

Steve isn’t quite ready to see her.

They don’t talk, not really, and the only times he sees her are at said Christmas parties, exchanging formal pleasantries with her and promptly fleeing to the bar so he can down some shots to calm his nerves. It’s the same thing every year. He gets nervous in big crowds anyways, always needing Sam or Natasha by his side so they can calm him down, but when it comes to being face to face with Peggy, not even his best friends can do much to help.

He doesn’t know why she still has such an impact on him, but he guesses that he connects her to the one huge failure in his life- their marriage, that is- which is endlessly unfair to her, but he can’t seem to help it. Facing her just terrifies him at this point.

He takes a deep breath, exhales slowly through the mouth, and repeats the breathing techniques Javier, his yoga trainer, has taught him. His anxiety has calmed in minutes, and he heads into his bathroom to get ready for the party. After he’s showered and brushed his teeth, he massages oil into the skin on his body, remembering how Dalia told him to do it.

_“When you rub from top to bottom, Captain, you increase blood flow. Gets you energized and ready to master the hardest of days, yes?”_

He really needs to master this day.

Steve opts for a dark grey suit, slicking his hair back, and fastens his watch with shaky fingers.

“Jarvis?” he calls, “When’s the car gonna be here?”

“Mr. Barnes will arrive in approximately seven minutes. Mr. Sitwell is your driver for tonight, he will pick you up at any time you wish, Sir.”

“Thanks,” he breathes and straightens his tie one more time before putting his shoes on and exiting his apartment building. Some fresh air will surely do him good.

He’s been pacing for a little when he sees the car pull up and he enters the vehicle hastily, fumbling with the seatbelt and fastening it finally, sitting back with his body rigid and tense. Bucky is eyeing him from the other side of the car.

“Everything okay there, Cap?”

Steve lets his eyes wander to him slowly, before nodding without a word. He hasn’t even said hello. Steve can feel the panic rise in his body with every passing second.

Bucky narrows his eyes and scoots closer, his hand immediately on Steve’s knee. This is probably a little inappropriate, but he can’t bring himself to care when he feels his throat closing up.

“Hey, Steve, what’s wrong? Are you alright?” Bucky’s voice is so gentle, laces with concern, and if the situation were any different, Steve would be excited about it.

“Nervous,” he chokes out before clearing his throat, closing his eyes to do more of the controlled breathing exercises he knows. He hears some shuffling, a couple of glasses clinking, before he feels something cold being pressed into his hands. Bucky’s hand returns to his knee.

Opening his eyes slowly, he sees that Bucky has placed a cold bottle of water into his hand, and he’s holding a shot glass in his other hand.

Smiling gently, a little unsurely, he nudges him. “Go ahead, have some sips. And then you’ll down this, yeah? Helps with the nerves, trust me.”

Steve nods wordlessly and uncaps the bottle, gulping down nearly half of it in one go, before reaching for the shot glass and throwing that back as well. He’s not a fan of using alcohol to soothe his raging mind at all, but this is a dire situation, and besides, yolo, right? Isn’t that what the kids say these days?

His face twists up at the unpleasant burn of the vodka sliding down his throat, but when he shakes it off, he does actually feel better. Calmer. Bucky’s thumb has started rubbing circles into his knee, and Steve doesn’t want it to stop.

Putting the items he’s holding onto the side, he looks over to the younger man, his face hot. “Sorry about that,” he says quietly, embarrassed, “I freak out sometimes.”

Bucky shrugs, a gentle smile still on his face. “Don’t worry about it at all, just glad you’re feeling better now. You went white as a sheet, there.” Steve ducks his face, another apology ready on his lips, but Bucky squeezes his knee sharply, making his gaze snap to the younger man’s face. “Seriously, Steve, it’s fine. May I ask what happened?”

Steve debates telling him, he doesn’t want to come across as even more pathetic than he already does, but he decides that, after the way Bucky has just helped him out, he deserves to know the truth at least.

“My- my ex wife is gonna be at the party tonight,” he stammers, not daring to look at Bucky’s face, “and I don’t see her outside of big events like these. I’m not really… looking forward to it.”

He risks a glance at Bucky who’s just nodding in understanding, mouth pulled in. “I can see how that could get uncomfortable. But Steve, I’ll be with you all evening, yeah? And if there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s avoiding awkward situations and getting shitfaced.”

Steve barks out a laugh, his panic forgotten at the thought of having Bucky with him all night, not just as a buffer but also as good company.

“Fair enough,” he nods, and they sit in silence for a few beats before Steve breaks it, “Bucky, thank you. Really. I feel a lot better already.”

Bucky smiles over at him, taking his hand off of Steve’s knee, much to his dismay, but he places it on Steve’s shoulder. “Of course, Steve. Anytime.”

The rest of the ride is silent, not uncomfortably so, Steve taking sips from the water bottle every now and then and Bucky smiling at him in encouragement whenever he does. When the car pulls up to the venue there’s a few paparazzi there already, and Steve and Bucky look at each other.

“You ready?” Steve asks.

Bucky smiles widely. “Lead the way.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my God. I am so sorry. this took ages. this damn chapter fought me tooth and nail throughout the entire writing process, it just didn't want to be written. 
> 
> I was very busy with school and work and now I have COVID, so I'll probably write a lot and update more frequently now...
> 
> WARNING this chapter contains mentions of Steve's late mother and also mentions of homophobia, parents kicking their kids out, and catholicism. if any of these topics irk you, please read with caution. 
> 
> hope you like this one, I'll pick up the pace soon. 
> 
> kudos and comments are greatly appreciated, happy new year! xxx

Once inside, Steve can feel some tension seep back into his body, but having Bucky by his side helps tremendously. He spots his friends pretty soon after entering and he motions to Bucky to follow him, they walk over there together.

“Captain! Buckaroo! You’ve made it!” comes Tony’s shout, and the rest of the group turns to look at them. Steve sees Natasha’s raised eyebrow, not impressed. He decides to not let it get to him and instead smiles at the others brightly.

“Of course,” Bucky answers for the both of them, peering over at Steve, “although I did have to wait for ages so the princess could finish getting dolled up.”

Steve lets his jaw drop, faux appalled. “I had to wait outside for you for ten minutes! Ten whole minutes!”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Lies,” he mutters.

It makes the rest of the group laugh, Tony and Pepper smiling at them fondly, Clint chuckling along as he always does, Natasha stays stone faced, and then there’s Sam, looking at them with a smile on his lips and a question in his eyes.

Steve is such an idiot.

“God, where are my manners,” he winces, “Sam, meet Bucky, my PA. I’m sure I told ya about him sometime. Bucky, this is my best friend Sam.”

The two men smile at each other, shaking hands.

“Good to meet you, Bucky,” Sam says, voice quiet and husky.

Bucky nods. “Pleasure’s all mine, Sam.”

“Alright, alright, enough pleasantries!” Tony interrupts, throwing the rest of his drink back before looking at the group expectantly. “We gonna get wasted or what?”

They all share a laugh before making their way to the bar to get their drinks refilled, and Steve and Bucky take a second to decide.

“We need a game plan,” Bucky says, his finger drumming on the glass randomly, and Steve has to lean in closer to hear him over the loud music.

“Whaddya mean?”

“A game plan," Bucky repeats, looking at the screens above the bar that show the different types of drinks they’re serving. It’s a fancy establishment, but the event is for in-house guests only, and they all know how it can go down when Tony throws a party. Bucky keeps talking, snapping Steve out of that thought. “So we know how to proceed from here on out.”

Steve looks at him bewildered. “Buck, I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

The younger man holds up his index finger, signaling for Steve to hush, and nods at the brown haired girl behind the bar. Her face lights up with recognition and she leans in, Bucky does too, whispering something to the pretty bartender. Her face morphs into an expression of smugness and she winks at him, the gesture making Steve’s eyebrows pull in, and a second passes before she’s back with two shot glasses filled to the brim with golden liquid. She sets them down and next to those she puts a small plate with two slices of lime and a tiny pile of salt on it. Steve’s stomach sinks. Tequila.

Bucky hands him one glass and pushes the plate closer to him, stubbornly ignoring Steve’s words of protest. “Bottoms up, bossman!” Bucky shouts before doing the shot, not even cringing when he empties his glass.

Reluctantly, Steve follows. The alcohol burns his throat, the disgusting taste assaulting his taste buds, and all in all, Steve just really hates tequila. He isn’t a big drinker in general, really.

“That was horrible, oh my God,” he spits, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, still shuddering at the strong taste of the liquor.

Bucky just pats him on the back and goes on to explaining like Steve hasn’t said anything at all. “So, a game plan. A general idea of how we’re gonna act tonight, depending on what you wanna accomplish.”

Steve is still confused, Bucky looking at him expectantly. “Why do we need that? Can’t we just be… ourselves?” He feels like he’s missing something big here.

Bucky winces slightly. “Not after the scene in the car we can’t,” he shrugs a little apologetically, “imagine your ex wife comes over to us now. And then you talk a little, have a chat, all that bullshit. She turns around to walk back over to her group. What do you want her to be thinking?”

Steve’s eyes dart from side to side, not sure if he’s following but willing to indulge Bucky in his little game anyways. “I’d want her to think that, I’m… friendly? Same as I used to be, I guess?”

Bucky’s eyes narrow at him.

“You don’t wanna make her jealous? Make her think you’re a lot better off, or have her wondering what she’s missing out on?”

Steve’s eyes widen in shock, and he begins shaking his head frantically.

“No! God, no, that’s not what I want at all! As I’ve told you before, there are no hard feelings between us. I still have a lot of respect for her, I don’t wanna make her feel bad or anything!”

Bucky looks him up and down with furrowed eyebrows, before relaxing and giving Steve a shrug. “Damn, you really are good people, huh?”

Steve shrugs sheepishly. “You don’t love someone for ten years and then just stop, Buck. My love for her is friendly, and I want it to stay that way. Peggy Carter is the type of person that makes you wanna be in her good graces, trust me.”

Bucky nods in understanding. “You seen her around yet?”

“Nah, not yet.”

Bucky turns around and orders another round of shots, this time for the whole group, and when the bartender serves them, most of Steve’s friends groan loudly but don’t complain. Even Natasha raises her glass in a toast. When that’s all said and done, Steve and Bucky each get a vodka soda, moving to stand to the side with some others.

Clint takes Natasha to the dance floor where he starts twirling her around, making her laugh loudly. Steve looks over to Bucky and sees him watch them with a wistful smile.

“They a thing?” he asks, tilting his glass towards the two.

Steve shakes his head, brows furrowed in contemplation. “Not that I know of. Natasha may be one of my closest friends, but she plays her cards close to her chest nonetheless.”

Bucky scoffs humorlessly, muttering “Ain’t that the truth”, before taking a long sip of his drink. Before Steve can ask, Sam interrupts.

“So, Bucky, how are you liking Stark Industries? Cap not annoying you too much?” he shoots Steve a playful look, which earns him a light shove to the shoulder.

“He’s annoying as hell, but nothing I can’t handle,” Bucky shoots back without missing a beat, and him and Sam share a laugh while Steve pouts.

“I’m being bullied here, can’t believe it.”

Bucky leans over and pinches his cheek, reminding him of the old lady down the street from where he used to live with his mama, not letting go as he speaks. “Aw, Stevie, don’t pout! We’ll go easy on ya, big guy, promise!”

Sam bursts out laughing and Steve tries to, considering that part of his face is pinched in Bucky’s grip, but they all turn silent when a female voice speaks up, the accent all too familiar.

“What are you pouting about now, Steven? You never change, do you?”

Bucky takes his hand away and turns to see who interrupted them, a puzzled look on his face. Steve’s body goes rigid and he can feel his heartbeat quicken drastically, but he turns to see Peggy standing there, one perfectly plucked eyebrow raised and a playful smirk plastered on her gorgeous face.

No matter how long he’s known her, he’ll never get over her elegant beauty. She’s dressed in a simple black dress that’s hitting the floor, hands gloved in delicate lace, her jewelry blinding, but not as much as her smile. He sees the mischief in her eyes, but she’s smiling at him warmly now, familiar. Like a good friend. His heart rate slows down to normal and he isn’t nervous, more like excited to see her after such a long time, now that he can sense that they’re okay again.

He steps up to her and pulls her into a tight hug, her arms hugging back just as fiercely. “Peggy, it’s so lovely to see you.”

They pull apart and she takes his face in her hands, mustering him, eyes searching for any apparent changes and not finding any. Steve Rogers is a man of habit, after all. They pull apart and she smacks her lips.

“Steven, you causing trouble again?”

He holds his one hand up in a show of innocence, the other one still clutching his drink, shaking his head. “I’d never, ma’am.”

She rolls her eyes. “As if,” she mutters, before extending a hand towards Sam, which he takes and gently presses a kiss to the back of it, right on top of the material. When he looks up all three of them burst into laughter, and one second later, Peggy is in Sam’s arms as well. They embrace like old friends do, and Steve is so grateful for everyone he’s ever had in his life. All in all, he has really good taste in people.

He glances towards Bucky who’s looking at the exchange with a small smile on his face, but he seems unusually timid.

When Peggy spots him, she cocks her head and looks him up and down. “And who are you, pretty boy?” she asks, mischief evident in her eyes. Bucky’s eyes dart from side to side, unsure of what to say, fishmouthing at the flirtatious way she asked the question.

Steve would love to see Peggy swallow Bucky whole and spit him back up, it would be entertaining for sure, but Bucky’s nothing but a good guy, so Steve has mercy on him. “That’s my good friend and personal assistant, Bucky,” Steve jumps in, throwing a wink at him.

The younger man looks at him with relief in his eyes before he extends a hand to Peggy. “It’s lovely to meet you, I’m Bucky,” he greets, some of his usual bravado coming back to him.

She eyes his hand before slowly reaching towards it and shaking it, her smile widening. “Peggy Carter, the pleasure is all mine, trust me.” Steve rolls his eyes fondly at her shenanigans and takes a sip of his drink, exchanging a knowing look with Sam before they train their eyes back on what’s happening in front of them. “What kind of name is Bucky?”

The poor boy looks like he’s about to shit his pants, honestly.

“Uh, it’s a nickname. My name is James Buchanan Barnes, and- well, Bucky is from- from my middle name… ma’am.” He smiles at her sheepishly, and her hard look doesn’t waver for a minute. Steve knows she must be getting a kick out of Bucky calling her “ma’am” this whole time.

She smacks her lips again. “Very well. Bucky is a name better suited for a little lad like you, James is too serious. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Bucky nods his head up and down quickly, swallowing hard. “Yes, ma’am.”

She smiles, satisfied, before turning her body towards Steve, eyes never leaving Bucky’s, though. “How did you end up with this boy, Steven?”

“Beats me, Peg,” he shrugs with a smile, “he just landed in my lap.”

“Did he, now? How sweet,” Peggy mutters under her breath.

The crimson that appears on Bucky’s cheeks makes Steve feel hot with something feral coiling in his stomach, the act of talking about Bucky aa if he weren’t even present arousing him in ways he hasn’t experienced in a long time.

Peggy’s eyes dart to Steve’s, then down his body, and back up again. She grins at him, knowing.

Peggy knows everything there is to know about Steve, even after all these years. She knows how he takes his coffee, what scented candle is his favorite, the way he sleeps and how many blankets he needs, his workout regimen, his favorite food, his least favorite topics of conversation, and best of all, the ins and outs of his sex life. There’s nothing they haven’t done, tried, discovered, enjoyed, or hated together, and no time passed can change that. Again, Steve Rogers is a man of habit. Peggy Carter knows that very well.

Her grin changes into one of smugness, and Steve doesn’t even want to know what she figured out in these five seconds of silence. Instead, he turns to his drink again.

“Anyways,” Peggy exclaims, bursting their bubble, “I’ll be off now, there’s a lot of other people I need to speak to tonight. Bucky,” she turns to the younger man, holding her hand out as she did with Sam, and Bucky gets the hint and drops a quick kiss to the back of it, startling a little when she turns her hand and puts her palm against his cheek, “it was good to meet you, darling.” Pulling her hand away, she turns to Sam, who bids her goodbye in the same fashion her greeted her in, and lastly, she stands in front of Steve. He tucks a curl behind her ear and smiles tightly, not knowing what she is going to say to him. Peggy Carter has a lot of ammunition here, and Steve would hate to stand in front of her cocked gun.

She grips his arm and stands on her tippy toes to press a chaste kiss to his cheek, her expensive lipstick not leaving a stain. “You be good, Steve.”

He nods solidly and squeezes her hand, bringing it up to his lips to kiss it like the two men before have, his eyes never leaving hers.

“Yes, ma’am,” he murmurs, and they give each other one last smile before she saunters away as quietly as she came, getting lost in the crowd.

The three men turn to each other, Bucky’s eyes wide and mouth open in a small o shape. “What in the hell just happened?” he asks, making Steve and Sam chuckle.

“Well, dear Bucky, my ex-wife just happened.” His eyes are gleaming with fond amusement.

Bucky leans over a bit to stare into the crowd, probably trying to spot Peggy to make sure she is even real. “You were married to her? You were married to her and not scared?”

Sam laughs out loud at that, clapping Steve on the back. Steve shrugs with a smile. “Well, she isn’t scary when you know her, but let me tell ya, she ain’t made it this far in life by playing nice. You either make a good choice and show Peggy the respect she deserves, or you make a bad one and don’t, but be ready to deal with the hell that comes after. Always been that way.” Steve knows that the look on his face is one of fondness he reserves for very few people in his life. The nerves he felt when they had arrived faded away quickly, and now he wonders why he was nervous at all. “It’s not always like this with her, though,” he feels like he needs to elaborate, Sam nodding along because he already knows what Steve is going to say. Sam was there when Steve and Peggy met, when they got together, when they got married and divorced. He was there for the good times and the bad times. Steve wants to explain the nature of his relationship with Peggy, after everything he told Bucky, and after the question he had for Steve tonight, insinuating that he wants to do Peggy wrong. Bucky leans in closer to hear what Steve has to say.

“As I already said, we see each other once or twice a year, always at work related events, and we never talk outside of those, either. We just don’t feel the need to. Peggy is one of the people who know me best, there’s nothing she can’t tell you about me. But, and this is partly my mistake as well, we were bitter about our divorce for quite a while. We took it out on each other however we could, and lemme tell you, bottling up your anger and frustration for a year only to have one evening to be able to unleash it was not healthy for either of us. Last year, we talked about it a little and came to the agreement to let the past be the past and focus on all the positive aspects of our relationship. The last event we saw each other at was a bit over eight months ago, and things were good, but strained. I wasn’t sure if things were gonna stay good.

So, now, I guess we can… be friends? Please don’t think badly of her just because of my little episode in the car earlier.”

Sam’s eyebrows shoot up. “Episode? Do tell!”

Steve ignores him, looking at Bucky wide eyed and sincere, and the younger man smiles warmly. “Don’t worry, Steve, if you’re good, I’m good. I just wasn’t sure how you wanted this to go. I’m glad it went well, really. And, besides, I’m scared shitless of her. What a badass.”

Steve and Sam chuckle, Bucky doesn’t know the half of it.

The rest of the night goes smoothly and it becomes progressively more fun, with some of their co-workers playing drinking games and even getting Steve and Bucky to join them. They play beer pong against Natasha and Clint, and of course they lose terribly. Bucky tries to get Steve to dance with him, to no avail. Tony holds a speech and is only a little coherent during it, but it’s not something his employees aren’t used to at the annual Christmas parties.

“I’ve never seen Stark this sloshed,” Bucky whispers to Steve while Tony is rambling about the power of Christmas.

“Where do you know him from anyway?” Steve asks, he’s been wanting to for a while now.

Bucky shrugs, nonplussed. “I used to date someone who took me to fancy outings sometimes, that’s where I met Stark.”

Steve’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “And you struck up a friendship like that? He tells me you helped him in many ways.”

Bucky smirks but his eyes aren’t swaying from where he’s still looking at Tony. “I did. We kept running into each other, and we were usually bored out of our minds at those events. My date loved them, I, not so much. When he wasn’t paying attention, I’d sneak away with Tony, and we’d get tipsy on expensive champagne and do stupid shit like break into storage rooms and steal the janitor’s cart to ride around the building with.” His lips quirk up at the memory, and Steve’s surprise doesn’t lessen. “It was dumb and fun, and drunken

conversations can get real deep sometimes, you know how it is.” He takes a long sip of his drink.

He doesn’t know if it’s the alcohol or his stupidity talking, but he suddenly feels brave enough to ask the question that’s been on his mind since they started this conversation. He clears his throat. “May I ask you something… personal?”

Bucky purses his lips, a glint in his eye, and nods.

“Have you two ever… uh… y’know, hooked up?”

That gets Bucky’s attention, and he turns to Steve slowly, a slight furrow in his brows but he’s fighting not to let a smile slip. It’s a losing game. Steve hopes his cheeks aren’t as red as he thinks they are.

“No, we haven’t. We were very close for a while, but it never became romantic or sexual. Tony’s not my type, anyway.” Bucky looks Steve up and down before turning away again, taking another sip of his drink.

Steve can’t explain why, but something in his chest loosens at Bucky’s confession. Still not being in full control of himself, probably well on his way to drunk now, he leans closer to whisper in Bucky’s ear. “Good,” he says, nearly a growl, making Bucky stiffen up, “I should hope so.”

With that he pulls away, ending the conversation by bringing his glass to his lips, making sure the gulps he’s taking make his Adam’s apple bob, flexing his jaw a little. Steve is nothing if not an arrogant little bastard, he knows. His eyes are trained on Tony, although he isn’t listening, but he can feel Bucky’s gaze burn into him from where he’s staring at the older man. Steve’s glad Bucky isn’t saying anything, he doesn’t know what he would do if he did.

When Tony finishes his speech and announces that he’s going home but everyone else is welcome to keep partying into the ungodly hours of the morning, they all start clapping and cheering in thank you. That’s when Steve feels a hand on his shoulder, Bucky gripping him and standing on his tippy toes to whisper hotly into his ear.

“I haven’t, Steve,” he breathes, making Steve’s heart beat faster in his chest, “I haven’t and I wouldn’t. Promise.” Steve turns to him and looks into Bucky’s eyes, wide and round and glazed, so innocent with a hint of mischief, but

before he can reply Bucky lets him go and dashes to the exit, gone in the blink of an eye.

Steve can feel the heat of his palm for hours after Bucky’s let him go.

***

Christmas is a quiet affair this year. Becca usually spends it in California with Olivia’s father, and Bucky doesn’t really have anyone he’s close enough to to celebrate with. If the situation were any different, he’d be with a client right now, sipping fancy champagne and laughing at whatever the other person is saying, enjoying the company and the great sex after, anything to distract him from this annoying holiday. He’s good at that. But alas, he’s not in the mood to complicate his current predicament any further, and besides, seeing someone else while his tummy is aching pleasantly at the thought of Steve would feel like even more of a betrayal towards the older man and, wow, that is one can of worms Bucky doesn’t want to open yet.

He’s in his bedroom, throwing a ball against the wall and catching it with one hand, feeling like a melancholic teen in a cheesy coming of age film, and he even has Frank Ocean playing quietly in the background. Bucky’s been home all day, watching movies, ordering food, and decidedly ignoring his phone except when he texted his sister to wish her a happy Christmas. He refuses to keep his phone close just so he can inevitably keep glancing at it in hopes of receiving a text that, deep down, he knows won’t come. He’s done with that, after all these years, he’s had enough.

It’s rare that he allows himself a moment of quiet and reflection.

The days leading up to the holidays weren’t as busy at Stark Industries, the majority of the projects finished and launched already, the people were more focused on celebrating the success the company was experiencing. The Hammer issues were mostly solved because the media was on Stark’s side and he could manipulate the narrative to his heart’s desires, and not even New York’s politicians had anything on him, so everyone at the company was quite relaxed, especially Steve. Charity work was his main focus these days, after all.

God, Steve.

Bucky shakes his head and throws the ball a little harder, catching it easily. He wonders what Steve is up to now. If he’s having dinner with his family and his huge group of friends, laughing and drinking and having a good time. He wonders what his family looks like, if he has siblings, if he has nieces or nephews. He realizes how little he actually knows about Steve. Sure, the things the older man has shared with him were personal and he’s told him a lot about those, but he still has no idea what kind of person Steve really is.

He’s good, his brain supplies, he’s so so good. An amazing man, through and through.

He wills his brain to shut the hell up and throws the ball with a huff, getting up and walking into his kitchen to pour himself a drink. Glass of scotch in hand, he makes his way over to the floor to ceiling windows of his living room, looking out and watching the snow fall silently. Now that he’s started thinking and overthinking, he can’t stop the wave of anger bubbling up in his chest.

Why does he feel the need to spend Christmas alone out of some false sense of loyalty towards Steve? They’re nothing, nobodies to each other. Why didn’t he say yes when one of his clients asked him to spend the night with him in a luxury hotel? He could be having fun right now! He thinks about Steve, surrounded by loving friends and family, and his chest constricts. Why can’t he have that? Friends that give a shit about him, a family that doesn’t hate his guts, a person by his side that’s gonna love him just the way he is.

Bringing the glass to his lips requires concentration, he can’t keep his hands from shaking, and he gulps the sharp liquid down. A pair of eyes flash in his mind, filled with disgust and anger, a frowning mouth hissing at him that he is no longer welcome in the home that watched him grow into the man he is today, he remembers his heart breaking in two and all hopes of reconciliation shatter. The warm embrace of his sister and the “I told you so” she didn’t say, the anger and frustration and sadness, so much sadness for a life they had to leave behind. He always shrugged it off when anyone asked, and then people stopped asking, and then Bucky didn’t have anyone around who asked.

He laughs to himself humorlessly and finishes his drink, putting the glass onto the counter and grabbing his jacket, putting his shoes on and exiting his apartment in the need of fresh air. New York winter is harsh and biting, turning

his cheeks rosy in mere minutes but at least he can blame the wind for the tears in his eyes. Walking through the city has always calmed him down, glad that his parents decided to move back to Indiana after kicking their children out for things they had no control over. He suppresses another wave of tears and exhales shakily, burrowing his face deeper into the thick scarf as he keeps on walking. He doesn’t know where he’s going, his feet carrying him in the hopes of draining his body of all the negativity.

Losing track of time is easy in his blind rage, and suddenly he finds himself in a neighborhood all too familiar. Bucky decides to keep walking, looking at the tall buildings and the gorgeous decorations, and rolls his eyes in annoyance. Christmas hasn’t been this tough for him in years.

He finds himself standing in front of a house he hasn’t been inside of in years, staring at the front door that has the wrong last name on it, the windows sparkling with pretty Christmas lights and the snow peppering the front lawn slowly. Bucky can’t see inside, couldn’t even if he wanted to with the tears blurring his vision, and he hates himself for walking to this place. The last time he was here was when he walked out of that very front door with his sister’s hand in his, turning their backs on the family that so easily abandoned them, and he doesn’t understand why he decided to do this to himself tonight of all nights.

Visions of him as a little boy come to his mind, running around in the garden, building a snowman with his sister, his mother welcoming them back inside of the house with mugs full of hot chocolate and a cuddle to warm them up, their father coming home after a long day and tucking them in for the night, his parent’s warm smiles and hugs and kisses and their love, so much love.

Feeling another fresh wave of tears hit him, Bucky squeezes his eyes shut, gritting his teeth to bear the pain and emotion that overcomes him. How did their parents kick them out so easily, he asks himself. How did they just let Becca and him walk out that door to never return again? How did it not break their hearts? Those are all questions Bucky never allows himself to ask because he knows he’ll never get an answer to them.

He decides that enough is enough, he needs to get out of there before the family living in his childhood home sees him hanging around in front of their

house and calls the police. Taking those steps away from the property is hard, but once he manages to get some distance between himself and that place, he feels like he can breathe easier. He walks and walks some more, tears steadily streaming down his face, when suddenly he realizes he’s walked all the way to the Evergreens cemetery. The aura of the place is as odd as one can imagine, but he’s so emotionally drained and tired that he doesn’t care, walking through the gates and finding a bench to sit on.

How wrong it was to think that he’s in the clear now becomes apparent as soon as he sits down as the emotions crash into him once more and he doubles over, burying his face in his knees as heavy, ugly sobs rake through his body. He’s being loud and he knows it but he’s so far past the point of being able to control his body.

The thought of his family makes him ache deeply. The fact that his parents hate him for being queer, that they were so disgusted by his sister that they kicked her and her unborn child out without caring about what would happen to them, the people he spent all his life with revealing their monsters in such horrible ways- it all makes him hurt. He longs for what could’ve been but never will be. He misses having people around that care. More than anything he wishes he could stop pushing people away that try with him, the way some attempted to, a long time ago.

There’s no dwelling on it now, he thinks, he made his choice and he has to live with it. Things would be a lot easier if he weren’t so goddamn lonely, though. Raising his hands to his face to hide behind them while he takes a few deep breaths, he wills himself to calm down at least enough to be able to walk back home. The temperature is freezing and in his haste Bucky only grabbed his jacket, not even a hat or gloves. Just as he’s about to stand up, he hears footsteps in the snow, approaching slowly.

“Bucky?” a familiar voice calls and Bucky snaps his head up so quickly he thinks he hears his neck crack.

And, lo and behold, there he is. Steve fucking Rogers. With his expensive coat and leather gloves and tall build and broad shoulders and frowning mouth and… blotchy… cheeks… Walking out of the cemetery… Wait, what?

“What the hell are you doing here?” Bucky blurts a little insensitively.

Steve’s eyes narrow immediately. “I could ask you the same thing,” he says coldly, eyes defensive.

Bucky can’t help the surge of anger he feels. “I thought you’d be spending Christmas with your family.”

“I did,” Steve says quietly, motioning behind him to the gates of the cemetery.

Bucky wants to snap, what the hell is he even talking about, when he takes in Steve’s form and bloodshot eyes, the man has been crying. The gears turn in his head before it clicks, and the fight leaves his body all at once.

God, he’s an idiot.

He closes his eyes and winces. “Steve, I’m so… I’m so sorry, fucking hell… I’m being such an asshole.”

Steve just shrugs sheepishly, wiping at his cheeks. “Happens, you didn’t know, it’s fine. What about you? You okay, Buck?”

They both look at each other for a few beats, not saying anything. Looking away, Bucky glances at the walls around the cemetery, the cement chipping away at some places, an unusual flaw for a place as well kept and frequently visited as this. His eyes dart back and look straight into Steve’s blue ones, and before he knows it, they’re filling with tears and overflowing, sobs wracking through his body.

Strong arms wrap around him and he thinks they’re the only thing keeping him from sliding off the bench and onto the cold, hard ground. Taking advantage of the temporary comfort, he buries his face in Steve’s shoulder, letting himself cry freely and unabashedly. He’ll find time to be embarrassed about this later, but now he’s going to allow himself the warmth this beautiful man’s embrace is offering him.

Steve moves them so that they’re both sitting, Bucky almost in his lap, arms never leaving the younger man. “Let it out, Buck, there you go,” he murmurs quietly, and even starts rocking them back and forth slightly. Bucky feels like his tears will never stop. His hands find Steve’s forearms and they clutch at the fabric of the coat, probably Burberry, and a laugh bubbles out of Bucky’s mouth at the ridiculousness of this particular thought popping into his head.

Now he’s crying and laughing and making a fool of himself but with Steve’s body so close to his, he finds it really hard to care. Slowly, so slowly, he pulls away and swipes the sleeves of his jacket over his face, sniffling quietly.

Steve’s hands are still holding him albeit not as tightly as they were mere minutes ago, giving him room to breathe. His eyes are full of worry as they assess Bucky’s current state, and Bucky feels his heart clench at that. Clearing his throat tensely, he stomps those feelings down, he can’t allow himself another onslaught of emotion.

“I- I’m sorry,” he whispers, voice shot from all the crying he’s been doing tonight, “I don’t know what came over me.”

Steve’s frown doesn’t ease up but he lets Bucky move away from him a little, putting some much needed space between them. God, Bucky just hopes this won’t turn awkward.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I’ve cried on your shoulder enough, it was time to return the favor.” The older man has a careful smile playing on his lips, and it takes everything Bucky has in him to not kiss Steve right here right now.

Snapping himself out of those thoughts, he shoots to his feet, taking a few steps. He shakes his head. “No- I mean, yeah, thank you, Steve, really- I just… I can’t- I have to-“

“Woah, woah, at ease,” Steve is getting up now too, his hands held in front of his body, trying to calm Bucky down.

It feels like his heart is in his throat. He needs to get away from Steve, but at the same time it feels like that’s the hardest thing he’s ever had to do. Okay, he should really stop being so goddamn dramatic.

He closes his eyes and inhales deeply, counts to three, then exhales slowly.

“I need to get home,” he whispers, not meeting Steve’s eyes.

The older man is still approaching him slowly, like he’s a nervous wild animal ready to pounce at any given moment. “That’s alright, but Bucky, from what I’ve seen I don’t think you should be alone right now.”

“What the fuck do you know?” Bucky spits, the anger surging up again, consuming him for a second then disappearing, leaving him numb.

Steve’s eyes dart to the side before settling on his, a resolute expression on his face. “Trust me when I tell you I know a thing or two about when it’s good to be by yourself and when you should avoid it.” Bucky sags again, unable to make up his mind. “Look,” Steve starts, “you can tell me to fuck off any time and I won’t take it personal, but I’m trying to be there for you. As a friend. You look like you might need one, pal.”

Bucky wants to laugh. He’s the one that needs a friend? Isn’t Steve’s loneliness and emotional constipation what brought Bucky into his life in the first place? Is this some kind of cosmic joke? If so, Bucky doesn’t find it very funny. Oh how the tables have turned.

Slowly accepting the fact that Steve probably won’t let him off the hook easy and also secretly kind of enjoying that little fact, Bucky nods his head before turning around and starting to walk in the direction of his apartment.

“Let’s go, then,” he yells over his shoulder without looking back, “I hope you like mulled wine, Bossman, because I plan on drinking a lot of it tonight.”

A couple seconds later he hears Steve follow.

***

Bucky’s apartment is cozy, spacious. Not quite what Steve imagined it to look like, but then again, he doesn’t know what exactly he imagined.

Almost an hour has passed since they got in and they’ve been silently sipping their mulled wine this whole time, not saying a word. Steve has to admit, he was shellshocked to see Bucky sitting in front of the cemetery crying his eyes out, he still doesn’t know why he was there or what exactly happened, but judging by his quick mood change, “sudden death in the family” can probably be ruled out. Steve doesn’t want to push, so he just sits and waits for the younger man to start the conversation. So far, he hasn’t.

“You know, you don’t have to spend your Christmas here sulking with me. You should go home and do something nice.” Bucky’s eyes are trained on his, looking as tired as he sounds.

Steve just shrugs and lifts his cup to his mouth, taking a slow sip. He smacks his lips and looks over to Bucky, hoping his eyes show the warmth he feels.

“I’ve already gone through all my Christmas rituals today. Listened to some good music, made a lovely dinner for one, went to visit my mama… I’m all yours for the rest of the night, if you’ll have me.”

If Steve were a better man, he’d say these words while completely sober, but he isn’t as good as he’d like to be so he welcomes the liquid courage with open arms. The surprise on Bucky’s face, sudden but not uncomfortable, makes him feel even bolder so he reaches out and drops a heavy hand on the other man’s shoulder.

“I’m really sorry about your mom,” is what Bucky says next and Steve does everything he can not to flinch, it’s a subject that will forever be a sore one. This Christmas was a little better than last year, but only because Steve ate his dinner at the kitchen table instead of in his bed and he managed not to cry until he threw up this time, but stopped himself shortly before. As mean as it maybe sounds, comforting Bucky is a welcome distraction.

“It’s hard, I won’t lie,” Steve says, settling for an answer that’s truthful yet vague, “but we all have our demons to fight. If you ever need to talk about yours, I’m here.”

Bucky seems to hesitate for a second before his hand lands on Steve’s thigh, making goosebumps erupt on his skin, patting it once, twice. “Thank you, I really appreciate it. I hope you know the same goes for you.”

“Sure do, pal, you’ve showed me enough times.”

They smile at each other for a few seconds before Bucky sighs and gets up to get a refill. Steve declines when he offers him one as well.

“You know my sister, Becca?” Bucky asks from the kitchen that’s attached to the living space.

“Yeah, the one with the sweet little girl that’s coming for my neck in the engineering business? How could I forget?” He grins and is glad that Bucky gives him a chuckle.

“Yes, the one and only,” Bucky says and lets himself fall onto the couch, taking a sip of his drink. “She was young when she got pregnant, a teenager. Our parents didn’t like that situation one bit. They’re catholic, strictly religious, and the fact that she not only had sex before marriage but also got knocked up in the process was horrifying to them. They wanted nothing to do with her.” He scoffs humorlessly and takes a long sip out of his cup. “I tried to talk some sense into them, to no avail. I told them that if they’re kicking her out, I’m going right with her. They didn’t even bat an eye. Just watched their two kids walk out of that damn house and never even showed remorse for it.”

“I’m so sorry, Buck,” Steve murmurs, the hand he placed on Bucky’s shoulder again tightening. He can’t even imagine what the younger man is going through.

Dread fills him when he hears Bucky whisper, “That’s not even all of it.” Bucky does not meet his eyes. “Becca and I made do, I took on jobs no noble man probably would, but I had my baby sister to take care of who was also carrying a child of her own. I would’ve done anything for them. We lived in Boston with someone we knew, and Olivia’s dad wasn’t around for a while because he had issues at home as well, he was a goddman kid, too, and it was all fucked up for quite some time. When Olivia was born it was the hardest time of all of our lives, Becca started working shortly after she gave birth and we just worked our asses off day and night to be able to stand on our own feet someday.” He exhales shakily, driving his fingers through his hair. After a short pause he continues, “That’s when our parents reached out to us to offer help, and I was so hopeful. I thought they’d take us back in… But I was a damn fool,” there’s tears streaming down his face again, and Steve has had enough of just watching the man in front of him struggle, so he scoots closer and puts his arm around Bucky’s shoulder, pulling him in. When Bucky’s breathing has evened out, he goes on, “They found out I was bisexual. No idea how, but they did, and that shattered any chance of reconciliation. Not only did they cuss me out and completely break off communication, they also- they sold the house I grew up

in. Said they didn’t want to live in a place that reminded them of the two failures they raised. I haven’t heard from them since then.”

It takes a few seconds before he’s full on sobbing again, body shaking apart in Steve’s arms and Steve feels his heart become heavier and heavier in his chest, the inability to do anything to help Bucky frustrating him beyond belief.

“Bucky, I’m so sorry you had to deal with all of that, but I hope you know that your parents are wrong! There is nothing wrong with you for being queer and your sister did not make a mistake, she’s raising a beautiful little girl all by herself. That’s more than most people can handle, and she’s doing it like a champ. Please, please don’t believe what your parents have told you.”

Bucky sniffles a little, reaching over to the coffee table and getting some tissues to sort himself out. Once he’s done, he shrugs his shoulders. He looks so lost, Steve just wants to hide him in his arms forever.

“I don’t believe what they told us, I don’t give a shit about them anymore. Well, usually I don’t… holidays are always quite hard when you have to spend them alone, I just got in my feelings today, I guess.” He goes for a smile, but it looks forced.

Steve sighs and gathers him in his arms again, letting his chin rest on the top of Bucky’s head, the gesture so simple yet intimate. Steve doesn’t let himself think about the feeling he has in his tummy.

“How are they doing now? Becca holding up okay?”

“Oh yeah,” Bucky says from where his face is still pressed against Steve’s shoulder, “She’s working and taking care of Livi just fine, her ex lives in California now and makes quite some money, so he’s able to pay child support no problem… I still like to send her money every now and then, but she’s handling it all amazingly. I’m so proud of her.”

Steve nods with a smile. Shaking Bucky a little, he says, “Don’t forget to be proud of yourself too, Buck. You may not have a baby to take care of, but your achievements are still beyond impressive.”

He feels Bucky stiffen in his arms a little, but before he can ask what’s happening, the younger man sits up with a smile.

“Thank you so much, Steve, really. You’ve done more for me tonight than you realize.”

Steve shoots him a smile of his own. “Anytime, Buck. And I mean it."


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so this one is quite short and a little slow and filled with banter, but I hope you like it still! I swear I'm gonna pick up the pace now, I'm tired of all the slow burn!!! it hurts!!! 
> 
> also, thank you all for the kind words, I'm feeling a lot better now and I will update a lot more frequently.
> 
> kudos and comments are always appreciated, thank you for reading xxx

The days between Christmas and New Year’s Eve pass in a blur and Steve doesn't even know what he’s up to most of the time. He sleeps in, works out, eats leftovers, works out again, talks to his friends over FaceTime because he’s too lazy to put on proper clothes to meet people, and he spends a lot of time texting Bucky. Like, a lot of time.

They haven’t seen each other since they shared a tight hug at Bucky’s front door at two a.m. that night, but not a day goes by that they don’t send each other a message upon waking up, Steve going for an old fashioned “Good morning, how did you sleep?” while Bucky prefers to send funny memes.

All in all, it’s really good.

So good, in fact, that Steve is starting to worry for his emotional wellbeing when it comes to the younger man.

“Steven Grant Rogers, are you admitting to having a crush?” is what Sam has to say when Steve hints at finding Bucky cute. Honestly, why didn’t he just keep his mouth shut?

Steve is very interested in his food currently, inspecting the contents of his plate a lot easier than looking at Sam.

The other man starts laughing heartily. “Just ask him out!” is Sam’s not so brilliant advice to Steve’s little problem. Steve scowls and gets up, walking into his kitchen to get some more hot sauce for his chicken wings, when he’s completed his mission he sits back down onto his comfy sofa and trains his eyes on Sam’s face that’s plastered all over his big TV screen. He looks straight into the camera and sticks his tongue out. Sam promptly rolls his eyes. “You big baby.”

“I can’t ask him out, I’m technically his boss!”

Sam nods slowly while he chews on his Thai food. “Technically,” he swallows a couple more times before continuing, “technically, Stark is his boss. You’re just the one keeping him occupied.”

“Still, dating him would be wildly inappropriate when I have a position of power over him. I can hardly have my boyfriend and my PA be one and the same person, Sam, the man does my fucking dry cleaning.”

His friend laughs at that. “Well, he ain’t gonna do this job forever, is he? Wait it out, see what happens. Have some fun, Rogers, jeez.”

Steve shrugs his shoulders, dabbing his mouth with a napkin while contemplating the situation. He could test the waters a little, see how Bucky reacts to it. So far, he’s been flirting back, or at least Steve thinks he has. It’s not like he’s in a rush, though, he likes the way things are currently going.

“He’s coming to Asgard with us, maybe that trip will get us closer together.”

“Aaand, he’ll be at Tony’s New Year’s party. Maybe you’ll get closer there,” Sam winks into the camera and Steve does everything he can not to choke on his food.

“Why will he be there?” he asks, reaching for his cup to take a long sip of his coke. Fast food is not something he usually goes for but the time between Christmas and New Year’s is lawless and unhinged, so he’s indulging.

Sam just shrugs, focused on his meal. “Natasha mentioned it, think someone in his family is sick or something? Something with a cancelled trip because of the flu, I didn’t really listen.”

Steve’s brows furrow. If Becca or Olivia are sick then Bucky surely would’ve told him, right? Right?

Unless they’re not on that level yet.

“Hang on,” Steve says and takes his phone in hand, shooting a quick text to Bucky.

_Heard you’re coming to Tony’s party, everything ok with the girls?_

He’d scold himself for his nosiness and worry, but he’s coming to terms with the little crush he has on Bucky. The only thing is that he’ll have to tone it down so he wouldn’t make the other man uncomfortable or be responsible for either of them losing their job. As he already told Sam, he’ll see how it goes.

“That’ll be fun for sure, Bucky’s a good guy. I’m glad he gets along with everyone as well as he does.”

Sam nods and leans back on his sofa, patting his stomach. “The group loves him for sure. Natasha ain’t too fond of him, though, what’s up with that?”

“Beats me,” Steve sighs, “they used to work together but neither of them wants to spill the beans on what the fuck happened. It’s always uncomfortable tension between those two.”

On the screen, Steve can see Sam frowning. He knows Natasha, not as well as Steve does but enough to know that she does not like leaving things unresolved and uncomfortable. They are both aware of the fact that the issue shouldn’t be pushed, though.

“Weird,” Sam mutters, taking a sip of his drink, Steve doing the same.

That’s when his phone buzzes. _Olivia came down with a cold and Becca has her hands full taking care of her so I decided to stay in NY this year, Stark invited me is that ok?_

Steve rolls his eyes fondly, as if he’s gonna object to Bucky being at the party. _More than ok, we’re gonna have a blast :)_ is what he decides to reply before putting his phone away to focus on Sam again.

For the first time in a long time he allows himself to see the feeling in his tummy for what it is: butterflies.

***

Slicked back hair, piercing blue eyes, smooth skin, luscious lips, and a body to die for clad in an expensive suit- if Bucky were someone else, he’d totally want to boink himself.

Arrogance aside, he feels better than he has in days, the time around Christmas usually tends to make him sluggish and he hasn’t worked out or eaten even remotely healthy in days. He gives himself one last glance in the mirror before taking his phone and snapping a quick picture, sending it to Steve with the caption _all ready for tonight, Bossman!_ opting to add an emoji with its tongue sticking out. He’s flirting and he’s aware of it, hopefully Steve is, too. The way they’ve been talking the last couple of days is promising, and Bucky is actually feeling giddy about tonight, not that he’d ever admit that out loud.

Jesus, what a handsome man can do to him sometimes.

The reply he gets from Steve is just a couple of fire emojis but it makes his stomach flatter nevertheless, and he makes his way out to the car with a huge smile plastered on his face. He hasn’t been to Stark’s very often, but he likes it there, it’s cozier than most people would think and Tony is always in good company, not to mention Pepper will be there and she’s become something like Bucky’s fairy Godmother. If he were to think about it, it would be weird that he’s so close to Pepper despite her knowing about his and Tony’s friendship, which is why he never delves too deeply into that topic.

Plus, it’s nice to have a motherly figure in his life, an older woman that doesn’t pay him for his company for a change, and Pepper always jokes about needing practice for when she and Tony decide to have a kid, calling Bucky an overgrown child on more than one occasion.

He’s dreading seeing Natasha tonight if he’s honest, seeing her outside of a work setting always gives her a lot of opportunity to sneak up on him for an attack, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever not be intimidated by Natasha Romanoff, despite knowing her well, or maybe even because of it. If he had to find a comparison for her, she’d be like the mean older sister than has cut the family off ages ago because she’s never felt like she belonged, but still checks up on her younger brother every now and then to ease the guilt, and woah, where the fuck did that come from?

He shakes the thoughts off and before he knows it, he’s ringing Stark’s bell, ready for a fun night.

“Pepper! Pepper, Pepper, Pepper. You have outdone yourself this time!” Clint smiles after he’s finished his meal, making the rest of the group cheer in agreement. Pepper is a busy woman, but she finds time to spoil her friends with her extraordinary culinary skills on special occasions. Bucky is glad that

special occasions are rare, otherwise you could roll him into and out of Stark’s house.

“Thank you, guys,” Pepper giggles, bashful and blushing, before she raises her glass in yet another toast. They’ve been toasting to any- and everything all night, and most of them are already starting to feel the effects of the booze.

“Not wanting to cook is one of the reasons why I’ll never get married, by the way,” Natasha quips from where she’s sitting next to Bruce, Maria pointing at her in agreement.

Sam snorts at that. “Or you could get yourself someone like Thor, he does all the cooking and baking in the house!”

“Well, someone has to make sure there’s food, Jane is too busy to take care of stuff like that! I’m not nearly as hardworking as her.”

“Hey, you work plenty,” Steve interjects and Bucky doesn’t know why he speaks up, probably because he’s way too close to being drunk, nodding his head as he says, “You’ve been working tirelessly all your life, Natalia, don’t sell yourself short. I mean, look at you!”

Natasha shoots him a look, trying to suppress a smile, and lifts her glass when Clint yells, “Amen! We’ll drink to that!”

She smirks at Bucky with her lips perched on the rim of her glass. “You’re not too bad yourself, Barnes,” she mutters, and to Bucky it feels like victory.

“Y’all got any new year’s resolutions?” Sam asks after they’ve all moved to the spacious living room to have desert while seated in comfortable leather couches, the group starting to hum in contemplation.

“Not really,” says Natasha, “time is a construct and if I wanted to change anything I could do so every day, I wouldn’t have to wait for a new year.” Maria nods, seemingly agreeing with everything the red haired woman is saying.

“I’m with you on that one,” she shrugs, making Clint roll his eyes.

“C’mon guys, it’s symbolic! Spoilsports! Personally, I wanna find a new eccentric hobby. That would be so cool!”

“Like what?” asks Steve while chewing on his bite of red velvet cake.

“Psh, I don’t know,” Clint shrugs, “Archery?”

Everyone starts nodding with their eyebrows raised, quite impressed by Clint’s plans.

“I’d say Steve and I up the game a little bit and do more to help out, what do ya say? Some new charity projects?” Bruce smiles and nudges Steve in the side gently. The other man laughs.

“Definitely, yes! Whatever ideas you have, Banner, bring them my way, I’m always happy to help.” When Tony clears his throat, Steve’s eyes dart to him before he corrects himself, “As long as it doesn’t get in the way of my day job, of course.”

Bucky laughs at that. “Tony would have your head.”

“It’s not so much Tony that I’m worried about,” Steve snickers, “but Pepper is a force to be reckoned with.”

“And don’t you forget it!” she smiles and they all laugh at that, before bringing their attention back to the delicious cakes they’re devouring.

“Personally, I don’t have any resolutions,” Sam interrupts the silence, putting his hand on Steve’s knee, “I’m just taking it day by day.”

Steve puts his palm over Sam’s hand and squeezes lightly, the whole group looking at them fondly, Bucky included. “I’m with ya on that, buddy.” He turns to Bucky where he’s sitting on his right and smiles. “What about you, Buck?”

Bucky reaches for his champagne and takes a sip, clearing his throat before answering with a serious expression. “I want to infiltrate Stark Industries and sell all of Tony’s secrets to Hammer so I can aid him in rebuilding his company thus knocking Stark off of his throne forever. Ha ha ha ha!” He finishes his small rant with a villainous laugh and everyone’s startled expression lasts for only a second before they all burst out laughing, asking themselves what in the world just happened. Bucky just smiles and goes back to eating his chocolate cake.

“You’re a nutjob,” Steve laughs and elbows him in the side, making Bucky laugh.

“I’m serious! Just you wait and see!”

Tony has calmed down after crying tears of laughter, holding his stomach while Pepper giggles into his shoulder. “I’d like to see you try, Jack Frost. You’d have to get through Pepper and trust me, that is not at all an easy task.” They share a lovey dovey glance before meeting in a kiss, and Bucky smiles at them warmly.

“Nah, I don’t have any grand plans to change this year, everything’s going pretty smoothly,” Bucky continues when they’ve all calmed down. “What about you two?”

Pepper smiles and silently goes back to eating her desert, and Tony clears his throat. “Well, we might… expand… our commodities a little. Buy a new house in the outskirts of the city, closer to some nature. A place more traditional and cozy.” He glances around the room nervously. “A place to maybe… raise some kids in.”

The group is silent and their faces show a mix between shock and joy.

Maria is the first one who’s brave enough to break the stunned silence. “Are you guys pregnant?”

“No,” Tony dismisses with an indifference they all know is put on, “not yet, at least. But we want to start preparing for it, slowly but surely.”

“Tony, that is awesome.” Steve smiles, reaching over to his friend and squeezing his shoulder. Bucky is smiling from ear to ear at the whole scene, endlessly happy for Tony and Pepper. They’ll make amazing parents, he just knows it.

“Now,” Tony claps his hands loudly to break the spell of the moment, being famously uncomfortable with emotions, “that means there will be some changes. Starting with the penthouse apartment at Stark Tower, I gotta make it kid safe!”

“Doesn’t that mean tearing half the place apart?” Bruce asks.

Tony nods with a sigh. “Yeah, sadly. I’m gonna miss that place, I’ve made some great memories there.”

The group snorts in unison.

“Like all the parties,” Natasha says.

“And the strippers,” Clint continues.

“Can’t forget the orgies,” Maria supplies.

“And the general nakedness that place has endured,” winces Pepper, no heat behind her words. They all know what Pepperony’s relationship is like.

Steve snorts into his drink. “Last time I was there, you had a man strapped to the ceiling,” he laughs and the others join, apart from Bucky and Tony.

They share an alarmed look that lasts a second before Bucky stuffs a huge bite of cake in his mouth and Tony chuckles uncomfortably. Pepper looks to the side and sips from her drink.

“Yeah, that,” Tony winces, “fun times.”

If anyone notices the slight awkwardness, they don’t mention it, and soon they’re on to another topic. Bucky wills the blood in his veins to unfreeze, cursing himself for his reaction. He’s usually an excellent liar, but when it comes to Steve, a lot of his usual self seems to disappear and an awkward, nervous version takes his place. Is this what it feels like to have… feelings? Bucky hates it. The guilt he feels doesn’t help any, and he finds it hard to look at Steve right now.

They’ve been getting closer and Bucky has been enjoying every minute of it, but the fact that he’s still practically hired to bamboozle Steve and play a part for the older man is still sitting heavy on his conscience, now that his feelings for Steve have turned genuine. His exact job description is even printed on his contract, for fuck’s sake. He just prays to God that Steve never gets his hands on it.

Willing himself to stop his negative thoughts from fucking up his night, he focuses back on the conversation the people around him are having. Besides, if he and Steve really start something properly, Bucky can just have Tony nullify the contract and Bucky doesn’t have to lie anymore so Steve never has to know, right? It’ll all work out, he tells himself and empties his glass.

The food has been eaten, tears from laughter have been spilled, conversations and discussions have been held, however, the champagne is still flowing in true Stark fashion, now all that is left is to count down to the new year and watch the fireworks.

The group is pretty tipsy already with Clint giggling nonstop and Tony announcing that he loves everyone every five minutes, and Bucky can’t remember the last time he had this much fun. They’re all on the way to the foyer to get their coats and put their shoes on so they can get outside and marvel at the gorgeous fireworks.

While balancing on one foot and trying to put his left shoe on, Bucky loses his balance and stumbles, but he’s thankfully caught by Steve’s strong hold.

“Woah there, pal, gotta be careful,” the man chuckles, and Bucky is sure he’s blushing to the tips of his ears.

“Thanks,” he mutters when he’s finally gotten his shoe on, “I really shouldn’t have drank this much.”

Steve laughs at that and pats him on the back. “Nah, I think you needed to let go a little bit tonight. You alright, though?”

“Yeah, I’m good, thank you. You’re right, gotta have some fun every now and then, right?”

“You’re so right!” Steve smiles and moves his hand to the small of Bucky’s back, leading him outside into the garden. Bucky is enjoying the contact immensely and even leans into Steve’s body a little bit, he’s just going to blame it on the alcohol should someone ask.

When they reach their destination, Sam holds up his phone so they can all look at the time, and Bucky watches the others huddle together, Pepper moving closer to Tony, Sam and Maria sharing a small grin, and Clint standing between Natasha and Bruce with his arms over their shoulders. Bucky is really glad that he’s standing this close to Steve.

“Ten!” Sam shouts and they all follow him, shouting the numbers in unison, their smiles growing larger and brighter with each passing second.

“Three!”

“Two!”

“One!” and they all start cheering, when suddenly Bucky finds himself engulfed in Steve’s tight embrace, inhaling deeply and basking in the glorious scent of fabric softener, cologne, and Steve. Bucky never wants to let go.

“Happy new year, Buck,” Steve breathes into his ear, tightening his arms and Bucky doing the same.

“Happy new year,” Bucky says back, “I’m glad I’m starting it like this.”

They pull away with beaming smiles on their faces and go over to the others to hug them as well.

Bucky gets his hair ruffled by Tony, which he can’t even get annoyed by, and he smiles and laughs while hugging the others. When he gets to Natasha they’re both a little hesitant, but he puts on what he hopes is a sheepish smile and stretches his arms out, giggling when she steps into his embrace after giving him a small roll of her eyes.

“Happy new year, Natalia,” he laughs, and she pats him on the back before stepping away.

“Happy new year, James. I hope this one’s it for you.”

His smile slowly fades into something smaller, more timid, and he nods at her knowing look. He squeezes her shoulder once before turning to go look for Steve. He stands next to the taller man and together they admire the colorful explosions in the sky, glancing at each other every now and then with shy smiles. When the show is over, the group claps and cheers for good measure.

“So, what now?” he turns to Steve and asks, rubbing his hands together to warm them up a little. They all have rosy cheeks and red noses, the cold getting to them.

Steve looks over at Tony with a questioning look, as does everyone else.

“Now?” Tony shouts, “Now we drink!”

***

He wants to die. He wants to crawl in a ditch somewhere and fling his body onto the ground and die there. He never ever wants to see or smell a drop of alcohol again. Just thinking about all the tequila shots he consumed last night makes him want to barf. He’s too scared to even open his eyes.

“Kill me,” comes a miserable wail from his right, and he pries his eyes open slowly to see Bucky lying next to him with his face smushed into a pillow.

It’s still dark in the room, thank God, so Steve can’t even really make out where he is. All he feels is the pounding in his head. When he tries to sit up a little, he notices that a weight is preventing him from doing so, upon looking down at his body he sees Natasha with her arms around his torso and her head on his chest. He lets out a little chuckle which he interrupts with a hiss when he feels sharp pain shoot through his forehead. God, he really hates alcohol.

“God, I really hate alcohol,” he moans, and Bucky makes a noise of confirmation.

“You’re preaching to the choir,” comes Sam’s voice from the foot of the bed, Steve thinks, but he’s too tired to think. He’s in too much pain to think. Ever again, really. He finds enough strength in him to at least be glad that he didn’t wake up next to Bucky alone. The memory of how they all even stumbled into what Steve assumes is one of Tony’s guest bedrooms is completely missing from his mind.

“What time is it?” Steve groans to the room at large, but Natasha is still soundly asleep and Sam’s deep breathing can be heard even from Steve’s position, signaling that he’s fallen asleep again.

It’s just Bucky who’s still conscious, apparently. “Too fuckin’ early,” he mumbles, but after some moving around he reaches for the alarm clock on the bedside table. “It’s almost eleven a.m.”

Steve swipes his finger down his face, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes in the process. He needs an advil, fast. “If I don’t get some water and a painkiller in me in the next five minutes I am absolutely going to die.”

Bucky snorts into the pillow. “Such a drama queen, Jesus.” After a few beats of silence he looks up, blinking rapidly to shake himself awake a little. “Good party, though. What even happened?”

“No idea, but I’m sure Jarvis will tell the story over breakfast.”

Bucky drops his head back into the pillow with a huff. “Can’t eat,” he mumbles, “gon’ puke.”

“You have to, Buck,” Steve whispers and slowly turns to face the man, careful not to startle Natasha. Waking her under any circumstances can only end in murder. “Did ya have fun, though?”

Bucky nods, his eyes sleepily gazing at Steve. “Yeah, I really did. Thank you, Steve.”

Steve doesn’t think he has to be thanked for any of yesterday’s shenanigans, but he has the feeling like Bucky is thanking him for something else. In a way, he understands. Reaching out and squeezing Bucky’s arm once, he nods with a tired smile on his face, and before he knows it, sleep takes over again.

They wake up after another four hours of sleep and slowly make their way into the kitchen where breakfast awaits them, which they all eat with caution seeing as last night’s booze is still in their system. Steve is just glad that nobody has thrown up. After thanking Tony and Pepper for a wonderful party, they all part ways in the driveway, everyone excited to get home and nap some more. That’s when Steve musters the courage to ask Bucky if he wants to spend time with him.

“You busy today, Buck?” he asks as nonchalantly as possible, miserably failing.

Bucky drives his hand through his hair, shrugging. “Not really. I was just gonna go home to shower and maybe watch a movie or something. Why?”

Steve scratches at the back of his neck, a little uncomfortable. “Wanted to ask if you maybe wanna hang out? I got a huge shower with amazing water pressure and on top of that pretty much every streaming service out there, so we can watch whatever your heart desires. If you want to…”

Bucky smiles at him warmly, making the butterflies in Steve’s stomach go crazy. Damn it, Rogers, calm down! “Sounds good,” comes the reply, “promise to borrow me some comfy clothes and I’m all yours for the day, Bossman.”

“We got a deal,” Steve pats him on the back and together they get into the car, Steve’s driver taking them to Brooklyn. He hasn’t felt this content in quite a while.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow, um... sorry? 
> 
> I apologize for taking so long, I haven't had any inspo for the next chapter, and then I sat down yesterday and wrote this monstrosity. it's almost 10k words, oops. 
> 
> I really hope you like this one, kudos and comments are appreciated (now more than ever tbh) and thank you for reading! xxx

They’ve watched two movies, eaten all the snacks in Steve’s pantry, and devoured two burgers each from the amazing burger joint down the block. Now all they’re doing is rubbing their too-full bellies and having a contest of Who Can Groan The Loudest, apparently.

“We truly are pathetic sons of bitches, huh?” Bucky moans, and Steve snorts unattractively, shoving him playfully.

“This is how we’re starting the new year, Buck. This is what it’s come to.”

“Don’t remind me!” Bucky wails, dramatically flinging himself off of the sofa and landing on Steve’s plush carpet. Steve can’t contain his giggles, despite his stomach protesting against the amount of movement. “But hey, at this time tomorrow, we’ll be on a plane on our way to paradise.”

Steve throws his head back in a groan. “Yes! That’s exactly what I need!”

“You packed yet, Bossman?”

Steve opens one eye to peer down at Bucky. “Ain’t that your job, Mister Personal Assistant Hotshot?”

Bucky’s mouth falls open in faux shock. “Steven Rogers! Are you telling me you are unprepared for our glorious trip? You? You who is usually on top of everything all the time?” He sounds positively scandalized, which has Steve in stitches.

“Usually, yes! Listen, everyone knows the time after Christmas is weird! It’s normal to be lazy!”

Bucky smacks his lips in disapproval before springing to his feet. “You’re hopeless, Steve. Come on, up you get! We’re gonna pack now.” When Steve only looks at him with raised eyebrows, Bucky starts snapping his fingers impatiently. “C’mon, chop chop! Time’s a-wastin’!”

Steve laughs fondly but takes Bucky’s outstretched hand, letting himself be pulled to his bedroom.

He’s never really thought about it, Bucky being in his apartment as often as he is, the thought fills him with some unease. Of course Bucky only enters his space when he has dry cleaning or packages to drop off for Steve, but now the older man is wondering just how much Bucky has walked around here? What if he’s seen something embarrassing? What if he judges Steve for the way he decorated his home? Shaking his head, he snaps himself out of those silly thoughts. Bucky is nothing if not professional and open minded, he surely never snooped around. What’s Steve so worried about, all of a sudden? He really feels ridiculous.

Bucky lets go of his hand and pushes him towards his walk-in closet, jumping onto Steve’s bed and making himself comfortable. “Now, pick out what you’d wanna take with you and I’ll tell you hot or not, okay?”

Steve looks at him baffled. “What do you mean? You’re not gonna help me?”

“I am helping!” Bucky insists and stretches his arms out as if to say _look! I’m being so helpful!_

Steve rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. “This is not what I pay you for.”

“You don’t pay me, Bossman, Stark does. Besides, it’s my day off, and I’m doing you a favor.” His expression is smug and Steve is so unbelievably fond.

He turns around with a huff and walks into his closet, going to the section with the t-shirts and picking some out. “Say, Bucky?” he calls out without looking at the younger man.

“Yes, Steve?”

Steve walks out and puts the shirts onto the chair in front of the big mirror before he turns to Bucky, a glint in his eye. “Is there anything one can do to get you to shut that smart little mouth of yours?”

That clearly wasn’t what Bucky was expecting him to ask, but he’s a quick little minx, so he cocks his eyebrow and quirks his lips, defiantly replying with “Maybe, you’re just gonna have to find out.” He shoots a wink Steve’s way that makes the older man’s knees buckle. God, he’s in for a ride, isn’t he?

Steve nods wordlessly then turns back to his clothes, picking up a shirt and holding it up so Bucky can see. He has a contemplative expression on his face, giving Steve a thumbs up for the shirt and they continue like this for all items Steve has to pack, from his shirts and pants to his shoes and accessories.

“You have good taste in fashion, considering you’re old and all,” Bucky comments off handedly while eyeing a suit Steve is holding up, and he pauses with his jaw practically on the floor.

“The hell does that mean?”

Bucky grins and gets off the bed, sauntering over to him and snatching the suit out of his hand. His face is inches away from Steve’s. “Exactly what I said, big guy.” He steps away and walks into Steve’s closet. “Also, no suits. It’s a beach wedding, have you not read the itinerary?”

Steve scowls in frustration and turns to Bucky with a frown. “Nah, that’s what I have you for, isn’t it?”

“Getting cheeky, are we?” Bucky smirks.

Steve holds his hands up in mock innocence, grinning. “I’d never.”

They finish packing rather quickly, Bucky making fun of Steve every chance he gets for the smallest things, but Steve enjoys it. It’s relaxed, comfortable, and fun. Having Bucky around him has him at ease, and he knows he’s not the only one benefitting from that. His friends have commented on his relaxed state more than once, and while it is due to the fact that Steve isn’t stressed out at work currently, he also knows that Bucky’s no bullshit demeanor and friendly word of advice have something to do with that as well.

Steve gives Bucky a tight hug at the front door, thanking him for his help.

“Anytime, Bossman. See you tomorrow,” Bucky winks and with that he’s out the door, leaving Steve with a fluttery heart and a dopey grin on his face.

***

There’s few things Bucky hates with a passion.

Kale. The feeling of wet socks. Stubbing his little toe. The color mustard yellow.

But waking up early, oh that… That is at the very top of that list.

He doesn’t understand why he has to get up at the ass crack of dawn to catch a flight on Tony Stark’s private jet that has no scheduled departure times and comes and goes as Tony pleases. Does the man have a sadomasochistic streak in him or what? Well, yes, Bucky knows that, but putting his entire friend group through that kind of torture is a bit much, even for Tony.

So here he is, sitting in his kitchen at five a.m., gulping down coffee in the hopes that it will wake him up but will probably just result in an urgent trip to the bathroom. Great.

He glances at the clock, he has an hour to get to Stark Tower, when his phone dings with a notification. Brows furrowed, he opens the message from Steve, and his mouth hangs open in shock at what he sees. It’s a picture of Steve, shirtless and glistening with what is probably sweat, standing in front of the mirror in his home gym, holding up his left arm and flexing his bicep. The asshole even added a thumbs up emoji. Bucky isn’t a lazy person, but getting up at four fucking a.m. to get a workout in before catching a flight is overkill and Steve Rogers is a psychopath for doing so. He snaps a picture of him doing his best grumpy face and puts a middle finger emoji in the caption, presses send and abandons his phone on the kitchen counter so he can take a shower in peace. If he jerks off under the hot stream while imagining Steve’s sweaty, naked body on top of his, well… No one has to know.

“Buckadoodle! Don’t you look chipper?” is the first thing Tony yells when Bucky clambers out of his Uber, getting his luggage from the trunk and slamming it shut in a resolute show of do not fuck with me right now. How in the hell is Tony this awake, he asks himself before his mind jumps to its own conclusion: cocaine. 

“Aw, leave him be, Tony,” Pepper tsks and walks over to Bucky, letting him melt into her hug as she strokes his back lovingly, “He’s so sleepy, aren’t you?”

Pepper is a wonderful woman. Probably the most wonderful woman in the world. After his sister, of course. And Rihanna.

He nods slowly and puts on a pout which earns him another ‘awww’ from Pepper, burrowing deeper into her embrace and sticking his tongue out at Tony who just rolls his eyes at the scene before him.

“Forever the night owl, aren’t you, Soldier?” comes Natasha’s comment from where she’s perched on top of her suitcase, scrolling through her phone without so much as looking at him. Clint groans from where he’s leaning against her legs, a sun hat in his face. Bucky relates to him.

He lets go of Pepper and walks over to the rest of them, mustering a smile and getting greetings in return. The whole crew is here, except for Steve. He must look as confused as he feels because Sam quips, “Steve had to go to the bathroom, he’ll be here in a minute.” Bucky nods in acknowledgment and turns to look at the huge private plane that Tony calls Quinjet, resisting the urge to wolf whistle. He’s been on many jets before, but nothing compares to the extravaganza Tony Stark has to offer.

“Let’s get this show on the road!” comes a familiar voice from behind him and he turns to see Steve walking over to them, sun glasses perched on top of his nose and a smile stretching wide across his face. God, he’s beautiful.

“Took you long enough, old man,” Bucky snaps with no heat behind it and laughs when Steve shoves him playfully, then throws his arm over Bucky’s shoulder. They walk to the jet intertwined like that while some of Stark’s crew takes care of their luggage, and Bucky feels his mood shift slowly but surely. Sitting in a comfortable, wide seat and looking out the window with Steve next to him while the captain gives a speech, he realizes just how ready he is for this vacation. And off they go.

It’s a long flight, and Bucky doesn’t even really know where Asgard is. Thor is so rich and powerful that the island doesn’t even show up on most maps because he values his privacy that much, but Bucky has turned his brain off when he went to bed last night and doesn’t plan on getting out of vacation mode anytime soon, so he just decides to trust his friends and let the journey take him wherever God wants him to be. Or something.

Clint has turned his seat into a bed and promptly fell asleep, Natasha and Bruce are huddled together and watching a movie, Sam has Pepper and Maria engrossed in a very competitive game of UNO, and Tony is on his laptop doing

God knows what. Steve is sitting next to him and solving crossword puzzles, the loser. Bucky had to plug his earphones in and listen to some music when they took off, always getting uncomfortable the first couple minutes when on a plane, but now that his nerves have calmed and the worried tilt of Steve’s mouth has disappeared, he’s bored.

“What are your vacation plans exactly? Any goals?” he asks in a hushed tone of voice, making Steve look over at him.

“Didn’t you say you read the itinerary?”

Bucky rolls his eyes fondly. “We have free range to do whatever we want the next five days, so up until Friday. The wedding lasts the whole weekend. Not what I was asking, though.” At Steve’s confused look, Bucky decides to give up. He’s not the only one who has turned his brain off, apparently. “My goal is to get super tan and toasted because that’s when I look the hottest. And to see you smothered in tanning oil. For scientific purposes, of course.”

Steve snorts loudly and lets his head hang between his shoulders, laughing harder than Bucky has seen him laugh in a while. When he looks up, he has tears in his eyes. Bucky is pleased, but really, it wasn’t that funny.

“Where do you come up with this shit?” Steve wheezes, wiping at his eyes. “Do you pull all of this outta your ass or what? You’re so random.”

Bucky decides that he will take that as a compliment.

“Y’know, Steve, not everyone is as boring as you,” he huffs and turns away dramatically, looking out the window in hopes that Steve won’t see the smile that’s threatening to take over his face.

They bicker back and forth the entire flight, Tony joining in when he hears the commotion, Natasha and Sam speak up because they just can’t resist making fun of their friends and soon it turns into a roast battle of the highest degree. Bucky looks around himself and takes in all the laughter, the good natured fun, and it hits him then how much he’s actually missed having friends.

The Quinjet lands on top of a large building in the middle of a forest, the trees rustling in the strong wind the plane is creating, and the group walks out

looking disheveled and a little disoriented. The sun hits Bucky in the face and he takes a deep breath, enjoying the warmth and taking in the smell of a fresh sea breeze, signaling that a beach is near. Three men exit the building through the large sliding doors to his right, and immediately go to take care of the team’s luggage. A gorgeous woman follows, a warm smile on her face, and she greets them all cheerfully.

“My name is Helen and I will be your guide this week. Whatever questions or concerns you have, feel free to ask me, my job is to make sure all of you have a comfortable and fun stay. I will also guide you to your designated houses.” Her tone of voice is friendly and genuine, and Bucky knows he likes her already.

“Houses?” he mouths to Steve and Natasha, making the latter chuckle.

They follow Helen into the building, and on the way there, Natasha explains. “This is Thor’s island, and he and Jane are the only ones living here. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Thor is an extremely social person, so he has many friends that frequent Asgard, which made him decide to build houses and apartment buildings all over the place. He’s nothing if not a perfect host,” she winks at Bucky and steps up her pace, walking to the front to be next to Clint.

Bucky is impressed, to say the least. He was thinking about staying in a luxurious hotel suite or a fancy little beach hut, not a whole house. Rich people are insane sometimes.

They squeeze into an elevator that takes them to the lobby, Helen explaining that this is the main building where all the staff live in when they reside on the island, in the very center of it, so they can be available at any time should the need for their presence arise. Then she leads them outside, the humid air hitting them all suddenly, but before they know it, they’re walking into a huge bus, sighing contently when the air conditioning cools them down.

“This is one impressive vehicle,” Bruce mutters and Bucky nods in agreement, sitting down in one of the many spacious seats, the leather cool against his hot skin.

“Please, help yourselves to a drink,” Helen smiles and walks through the isle of the very high tech bus, carrying a cooler full of what look like glass bottles filled with fruit infused water. Bucky grins happily and snatches one with

strawberries and lemon, opening it swiftly and letting the cold liquid slide down his throat.

“This is not normal fruit,” Maria says from where she’s sitting behind him, “this tastes phenomenal.”

“It’s from our fruit trees here in Asgard, they do have some special magic to them,” winks Helen, and the group chuckles lightly. This place is amazing.

“So,” Helen calls from where she’s standing in the front, the bus has started moving already, “you will be living in the houses at the beach, not right next to each other, but not very far, either. Thor and Jane’s relatives will join us in wonderful Asgard on Friday, so they will be living closer to the main building, seeing as they’re, as Thor put it, ‘high maintenance’,” she winks at them, “and he wants you to have enough privacy from the Odinsons. My colleagues and I are available always, of course, should you need us, we’re just one call away. Thor and Jane have created the living arrangements so nobody would get lonely or bored, but let us know should you want to change anything. There is more than enough space here.” The bus comes to a stop and Helen nods at the driver before turning back to them. “First stop, Sam and Maria’s house.”

They both cheer and high five each other, getting up and dashing out there door. “See ya later, suckers!” comes Sam’s yell and Tony and Clint burst out laughing.

Bucky swallows hard. “They’re pairing us up?” he whispers to Steve, the older man looking quite unsure himself.

“Looks like it,” he shrugs.

They continue driving for about five minutes, all the while Bucky can’t seem to stop his stomach from fluttering. What if he ends up living with Steve? Or Natasha? God forbid they make him stay with Pepperony. When the bus stops, Helen’s lips stretch into another smile.

“Next up we have a lovely house for our lovely lovebirds,” she says, and Pepper claps her hands excitedly. She blows them all a kiss and Tony waives at them before they exit the vehicle.

The options are lessening, Bucky notices with unease.

The bus starts up yet again, and the next house is also a mere five minutes away, when it stops this time, Helen motions to Steve and Bucky.

“Your turn now,” she giggles, and they turn to each other with a surprised look on their faces. This is really happening. Holy shit. Bucky thinks he can hear muffled laughter at the back of the bus.

“Alright then, off we go,” Steve smiles and stands up, Bucky following on shaky legs.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” Clint yells after them, and Bucky expertly ignores him.

A young man comes forth with their suitcases in hand and motions for them to come with him, he carries their things into the house and quickly walks back out, saluting them with a grin and nodding when they thank him for his help. Before they know it, the bus has taken off again and they’re left standing in the entryway to the house. The place is big, and gorgeous as well. The side of the house they’re standing on has the greenest grass and beautiful flowers growing in the garden, the forest side looking fresh and healthy and like the best of the best Mother Nature has to offer. The other side of the house must be where the beach is, the smell of salt potent in the air and Bucky can even hear the waves crashing on the shore.

Steve claps him on the back with a reserved smile. “Shall we?”

“We shall,” Bucky nods and together they make their way into the house.

It’s nothing short of gorgeous.

The floor is made of light wood, complimenting the crème colored walls, the décor warm and inviting, homey. Upon entering they are standing in the spacious living room, the couch looking plush and comfortable, and Bucky can immediately see the huge flat screen TV above the luxurious fireplace. Steve’s eyes are wide as they venture further into the place and spot a dining area to their left, the walls in that room made entirely out of glass so they can enjoy the view of the beach. The wonderful deck is just behind the sliding door, and Bucky peeks outside to see a sitting area and a hammock placed there. That looks extremely cozy.

“Lazy mornings in the hammock, God I’m looking forward to that,” Steve chuckles, Bucky smiling at him over his shoulder.

“Let’s check out the bedroom.”

And they do, walking over to the other side of the living room and moving the sliding doors to reveal a sun lit room made up in tropical colors; white, orange, and green littering the room, but before Bucky can notice anything else, he sees the bed. Yes, bed. As in, singular. One bed. For two people.

He frowns slightly.

“Just… one bed?” Steve whispers next to him. Bucky shrugs, swallowing hard and trying not to let his nerves show. God, why is he so damn nervous?

“I don’t mind if you don’t, pal,” he says, bumping his shoulder against Steve’s, and the older man laughs with a slight shake of his head.

“Nah, look at this thing,” he walks over and presses down onto the mattress, watching it sink down slightly, “we can fit three me’s and around… four and a half you’s on this thing.”

“Hey! I’m not that much smaller than you!” Bucky shouts, affronted.

Steve just gives him one of his shit eating grins. “Sure you ain’t, sugar.”

Willing his blush to stop fucking spreading, thank you, Bucky walks over to the left side of the room where a walk in closet is installed, then turning to open the frosted glass door leading into the en suite.

“Wow,” he breathes when he spots the huge shower, jaccuzi bathtub, and sauna. There’s a counter with two sinks and a wide mirror as well, the whole bathroom decked out in marble.

“Damn, Thor don’t play, huh?” comes Steve’s voice from behind him, looking around in awe. “There’s another small bathroom to the right of the front door, by the way, and we have a hot tub and a private shower out on the deck as well. He really went all out with this.”

“This is insane,” Bucky say and starts giggling in excitement. “I’m so glad I coerced you into taking me with you!”

That startles a laugh out of Steve. “What? Oh please, if I hadn’t invited you, you would’ve come as Tony’s plus one.”

“Oh, is that what this is?” Bucky smirks, walking over to Steve and standing right in front of him, reaching out with a finger and tracing the v neck of Steve’s t-shirt, the older man’s eyes widening. “I’m your plus one here?”

Steve recovers quickly and scoffs, rolling his eyes playfully. “You know exactly what you are, Buck,” he sticks his tongue out before walking out of the room, leaving a flabbergasted Bucky behind.

“You’re a child! An overgrown child!” he yells, taking one last glance around the room before following Steve, who is standing in the living room and typing away on his phone.

“We’re gonna meet up with Thor and Jane in about an hour, so we gotta freshen up a little,” he lets him know, but Bucky has other ideas.

His grin is so wide it’s threatening to split his face in half when he asks, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

Steve looks at him questioningly, but realization dawns on him when he sees Bucky’s eyes hinting towards the ocean. He smiles widely before taking off all of a sudden, his phone thrown on the couch, and he yells, “Race ya!”

“Unfair!” Bucky screams before scrambling to follow Steve, his feet hitting the hot sand while he’s trying to wrestle out of his shirt. It’s hot as all hell outside and he’s so glad he changed into denim shorts on the jet. Finally getting his damn shirt off, he throws himself into the waves where Steve is already splashing around, laughing at the groan Bucky lets out at finally being able to cool off properly.

They splash each other and goof around, uncaring that their wet shorts are clinging to their skin, and when they’re breathless and done playing, they just stand there looking at each other, smiling from ear to ear. Oh what Bucky would give to be able to reach out and kiss Steve right now.

It’s Steve breaks the spell, nodding his head towards their house. “C’mon, we need a shower.”

Bucky nods wordlessly and watches Steve’s strong back as he walks out of the water, before snapping himself out of the moment and following.

Thor and Jane have invited them to lunch on the beach, which sounds simple, but really isn’t. There’s a huge wooden pavilion set up with fans spinning to keep the guests from getting too hot, and the tables are set up gorgeously with fresh flowers as decoration that must be native to the island, considering that Bucky’s never seen them before. He wouldn’t call himself a botanist, but he’s pretty sure he’d remember if he had ever seen plant life that stunning before. Fresh fruit and different types of hors d’oeuvre are served on golden platters, and food that’s something close to a Thankgsgiving dinner is sitting in the middle of the large tables. It looks wonderful.

“My friends! I am so happy you are here!” comes Thor’s booming voice and his fiancée is standing next to him, smiling brightly. “We had our chefs prepare some American food, we hope you enjoy!”

They all exchange hugs, Bucky is a little startled at Thor’s strength even if it shouldn’t come as a surprise, and he instantly feels charmed when Jane wraps her delicate arms around his body and pats his back gently.

“Welcome, it is so lovely to meet you,” she smiles to him, and he nods gratefully.

“Thank you so much for having me, it is absolutely beautiful out here.”

They all sit down and the chatter begins, Thor and Steve catching up with Tony interrupting every now and then, Pepper and Maria excitedly talking to Jane, and Bucky feels a little overwhelmed already. That’s when Natasha plops down next to him, clad in a sundress with a cocktail in hand.

“This is a crazy bunch, Soldier, so get ready for a ride,” she informs him in a raspy drawl, reaching out and snatching some pieces of mango to put on her plate.

He grins a little uncomfortably before helping himself to some food, joining Bruce and Clint in observing and listening rather than participating in the conversations around them.

Lunch goes smoothly and it’s actually a lot of fun, seeing Steve relaxed and comfortable around his friends makes Bucky’s mouth turn up in a smile, and he’s genuinely looking forward to the days ahead.

“We’ll let you get back to your quarters now, so you can rest and get to know the place,” Jane says by the end of the event, gazing at them all warmly. Bucky has never met someone so warm and friendly before, but it makes sense, he thinks, Thor and Jane are a match made in heaven.

“Thank you so much lovebirds, I’m sure we’ll thoroughly enjoy our time here,” Tony smiles and claps Thor on the back, wincing when he hits solid muscle mass. Next to him, Natasha is trying to stifle her giggles.

Before he and Steve leave, he hears Sam gently tell Steve to “not disappear”, whatever that means, but the other man just shrugs it off with a tight smile so Bucky decides not to comment on the interaction.

Bucky is in for a ride alright.

***

“Asgard is absolutely stunning, I knew that, I’ve been here twice before, after all,” Steve explains to Bucky while they’re walking back to their place for the week, “But usually me and my friends stay in Thor’s mansion,” he points towards a tall hill located not far from the beach where a huge mansion stands, the greenery around it well kept and blossoming, “so I’ve never really seen what the insides of any other building here look like.”

Bucky is squinting to protect his eyes from the sun, staring at Thor’s mansion. “You mean to tell me that he… has a palace on… the hill… that is looking down on the island… like Zeus? Is he serious?”

Steve laughs, he’s never thought of it like that before. “I mean, he is named after a Norse God after all.”

“Are you guys sure he ain’t a God for real?”

Steve stops short at that and tilts his head in thought. “Not really, no.”

Bucky chuckles at that. “Where do you guys know him from anyways?”

Steve kicks at the sand and feels a fond smile take over his face at the memory. “We were in a diner in Manhattan one morning, curing our hangover after a night out, when suddenly we saw this mountain of a man walk in all alone, sitting himself down and ordering a bunch of stuff, right, huge amounts of food. We weren’t thinking much of it, man’s gotta eat, after all, until he held up the glass his milkshake was in, yelled ‘another!’ and slammed the glass onto the ground with full force. The thing shattered in an instant and everyone was looking at him shocked, of course, but we just burst into laughter. It was so funny, you don’t even know. Well, he gave us a bright grin, sat at our table, and the rest is history.”

“The hell did he do that for?” Bucky asks in confusion and amusement.

“Apparently it’s a tradition in the country where he’s from, if you really like the way something tastes, you drop the glass and immediately get a new drink. It’s fascinating.”

“And which country is he from?”

Steve squints. “Not sure.”

Bucky nods his head in faux understanding, looking at the tranquil sea. “Mount Olympus, then.”

They turn to each other and burst out laughing, Steve shaking his head at the ridiculousness. What if Bucky’s right, though? Steve wouldn’t be surprised.

It’s only five p.m. and they don’t have any plans at all for the rest of the day, so they decide to take it easy for the night and settle down a bit. Unpacking their suitcases doesn’t take long, and Steve is standing in the bathroom, organizing his hygiene products, when Bucky walks in. He wolf whistles lowly and Steve turns to him with a questioning look.

“Nothing, it just surprises me how many products you own. You really take care of yourself, huh?”

Steve smiles crookedly, finishing his unpacking by dropping his toothbrush into the glass next to the sink. “I have to, guy my age’s gotta be careful to keep the looks from fading.”

Bucky is leaning against the sink with his back to the mirror, arms crossed, mustering Steve up and down. “Don’t think you got anything to worry about, handsome,” he winks after a while and saunters off, leaving Steve with a warm feeling low in his stomach. Goddamnit.

“Hey, they left an activity folder here for us,” Bucky calls from the living room and Steve walks over to see what he’s talking about. He’s standing in the middle of the room with the open folder in his hands, reading. “Beach workouts, pottery, hiking… they have a whole program.” He holds the papers out so Steve can see. He takes them with a concentrated gaze, impressed by all the planning that went into this. “They’re optional, wanna sign up for anything?”

Steve shrugs, turning the folder over in his hand. “Dunno, not really. I don’t like the obligation of having to show up anywhere while on vacation. I don’t have a need to spend time with the others every second of this trip.”

Bucky nods slowly, tongue tracing his bottom lip, and lets himself plop onto the couch, turning the TV on and clicking on the Netflix icon. “You’re a private guy, I get it. Do they offer any extracurricular activities?” He glances at Steve with a smirk.

“What do you mean?” Steve frowns. “Isn’t that what this is?”

“Yeah, Bossman, but I meant only for the two of us.”

Realization hits him and he shifts a little uncomfortably under Bucky’s gaze. “Um, well, I… can ask Helen?”

Bucky nods, pleased, and turns back to the TV. “You do that,” he mutters under his breath and leaves it at that. Steve needs some fresh air, stat.

After taking a breather and calling Helen on the phone, Steve comes back inside with some good news. Bucky is still watching TV, albeit seemingly distracted now.

“Just talked to Helen,” Steve announces and winces when he sees Bucky flinch a little, but when he turns his head to look at the older man he’s smiling slightly. He raises his eyebrows expectantly. “She said that we are free to book

any and all activities we want, we don’t have to pay for any of them, and she’ll make sure we have enough time to prepare beforehand.” Now Steve is a little nervous, bringing his hand up to scratch at the back of his neck. “I took the liberty and booked a massage appointment at the spa in the main building tomorrow morning, so we can properly start the vacation as relaxed as possible.”

Bucky’s mouth opens in surprise and his eyes dart to the side for a second before settling on Steve’s, a grin breaking out on his face. “That sounds fantastic, thank you, Steve. You’re so thoughtful.”

Steve shrugs with a nervous grin. “You’re very welcome, Buck.”

They get into bed shortly after that and it isn’t as awkward as Steve thought it would be, but he’s not comfortable with the situation either.

“Listen, Bucky, if this is super inappropriate or if it makes you uncomfortable, I can totally get another house like Helen offered, I really don’t wan-“

“Don’t worry about it, Steve,” Bucky says, his tone gentle, and lays a hand on Steve’s forearm, “Let’s not think too much into this, okay? This is an escape, yeah? Here we ain’t Mr. Rogers, engineer and bossman, and Mr. Barnes, PA and general cool guy. Here we’re just two punks from Brooklyn, enjoying a nice vacation on someone else’s dime, sharing a bed. Okay?”

Steve’s gaze softens and he nods slowly, reaching out and stroking Bucky’s hand with his thumb for a second before pulling away. “Okay, Buck. You’re right.”

They lay back down and keep looking at each other for a bit longer but the moment doesn’t last long, mainly because it only takes a minute before Bucky’s breath evens out and he’s snoring away. Poor boy must be exhausted, Steve thinks before turning off the lights and closing his eyes. He feels excitement thrum in his belly.

The spa is, of course, absolutely stunning and luxurious. Two identically looking women, Mirabella and Emanuella, were standing at the entrance of the large

area, wearing gentle smiles that made their eyes crinkle. One of them was holding a trey with two glasses on it.

“Good morning gentlemen and welcome to the spa, would you like a drink? Fresh coconut with pineapple,” Mirabella greeted them in a calming voice.

Steve reached out and took one glass, handing it to Bucky, before taking one himself and sipping on the cold drink, feeling refreshed already. “Thank you very much.”

“The massage room is straight ahead and to your right you can see the changing rooms,” Emanuella starts explaining, “both of you will have your own locker which has robes, slippers, and soft clothes inside, should you feel more comfortable being clothed during your treatment. Allow me to suggest you to shower using our homemade relaxation gel, which you can find in your lockers as well, just to let the warmth of the water and the scents of the product put you in a state of calm and get you ready for the massage. My wonderful sister and I will be waiting for you in the room.”

“Sounds great, thank you!” Bucky smiles and together they walk to the changing room.

They undress quickly, decidedly not looking at each other, and before long they’re standing there in their briefs, looking nervous.

“You wanna go first?” Steve asks, deciding to be a gentleman, and Bucky nods.

“Sure, I’ll be quick. And I’m definitely using some of this,” he holds up the bottle of shower gel Emanuella told them about and disappears behind the curtain to get to the shower.

True to his word, he doesn’t take long, and when he’s finished he waltzes out with a towel slung low around his waist, Steve can’t help but eye him up and down.

“You can drink in your fill later, Bossman, I’m definitely not gonna wear anything for the massage.” He’s smirking, the little shit.

“I wasn’t even looking,” grumbles Steve and walks by Bucky to go take a shower, he ignores the snort and the “sure you weren’t” Bucky lets out.

When he’s done he puts on a robe and walks ahead to get to the rooms, Bucky follows, and both of them greeting the women from before with a smile. Before laying on the massage tables, they get rid of their bathrobes, nobody looking at each other to give the other some privacy.

“Any areas you want us to pay specific attention to?” Emanuella asks him when he’s comfortably positioned, and he hums.

“My lower back and my glutes, please. I have a desk job and it’s killing my back.”

“My problem areas are my shoulders and my lower back as well, please,” Bucky lets Mirabella know, and both women hum in acknowledgment before slicking their hands up and going to work, kneading away and working their magic. It’s one of the best massages Steve has ever experienced, right up there with Dalia’s services.

Almost an hour passes before the ladies gently nudge them to turn around, giving them a towel to cover up their privates before they do, and they place hot towels on their upper bodies while they work on massaging the front of their legs and their feet.

“This is heaven,” comes Bucky’s moan from his left, and if Steve weren’t in such a deep state of relaxation, his dick probably would’ve perked up.

He turns his head to find Bucky already looking at him with hooded eyes, trailing his eyes along Steve’s body, and Steve decides to remember that look of pure want and store it away for later.

“Y’know, I could get used to this,” he whispers and winks at the younger man before letting his eyes close, enjoying the rest of the treatment.

***

He feels like goo. Slimy, oily, wobbly goo. The massage was fantastic and ogling a oiled up Steve Rogers was even more fantastic and Bucky needs to expand his vocabulary because he’s sure he’ll run out of positive words to describe this fantastic vacation. Just, fantastic.

“You’re gonna have to carry me,” he slurs when they’re back in the changing rooms, putting their clothes back on. They both slept for a little bit while the sisters were working their bodies over, but it doesn’t seem like enough.

“Anything else, Your Majesty?” Steve teases, and Bucky opens his eyes just in time to see Steve pull his shirt over his head. He resists the urge to pout.

“Carry me to our cabana and bring me some more coconut pineapple juice and then entertain the others so they let me sleep,” Bucky commands.

Steve chuckles and steps closer, holding his arms out.

“This is your only chance, Buck. Hop on.”

And oh, you don’t need to tell him twice. Steve is strong and tall and too friendly for his own good, carrying him to the golf cart that’s waiting in the front of the building, asking the driver to please take them to the beach where the others are presumably already waiting. Steve keeps a sleepy Bucky in his lap during the short ride, and Bucky expects to walk to the beach, it’s the least he can do after Steve has treated him so nicely, but no. The gentle giant picks him up again and really does carry him to their cabana, and Bucky hides his smile in Steve’s muscular shoulder.

“His legs not working or somethin’?” he hears Sam call as Steve sets him down but he decides not to comment, instead he keeps his eyes closed and just stretches his hand out to flip Sam off. They’re on that level now, right? Well, Sam’s gonna have to deal with it anyway.

“We just had a massage,” Steve explains to the other, gently lifting Bucky’s head and setting a pillow under it, “So he’s very sleepy. I could use a nap too, to be fair.”

“That’s lovely,” comes Natasha’s voice, a little cold, “thanks for the invite.”

Bucky’s eyes are still shut but he can feel the tension arise within seconds. Steve’s voice is hard when he says, “Nat, don’t even start.”

“Ladies, ladies, let’s not!” Tony interrupts, “Let’s just all lay down and relax in the sun while thanking God that we aren’t in New York right now. Kay? Kay.”

They settle down after that, Steve joining Bucky in the cabana, not saying a word. It’s quiet except for the sound of the waves and Pepper, Clint, Maria, and Thor playing badminton by the water.

“Should we move the curtains?” Bucky asks Steve, peering over at him, “You wanna tan a bit?”

“Nah,” Steve sighs, letting his head fall back and closing his eyes. “Gotta take it easy with the sun, I burn fast.”

Bucky hums in acknowledgment, closing his eyes again and enjoying the silence. Moments later he drifts off.

He wakes up to find himself alone in the cabana, turning to his left he can see Clint napping in the one he shares with Natasha, so he sits up and looks around. The others are a little further away in the shade, sitting on what seems to be a blanket, the slight ocean breeze carrying their laughter. Bucky gets up to join them.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Pepper smiles when she spots him, and all eyes turn to him. He gives them all a silent wave and plops down next to Steve, resting his head on his shoulder.

“Hey, had a good nap?” Steve puts his arm around him and asks him quietly while the conversation around them resumes. “The crew brought us lunch but I didn’t wanna wake you.”

Now that he mentions it, they’re sitting around a lot of food, cut up fruits and veggies, sandwiches, bottles full of water and juice, the works. Bucky loves this island.

“’s alright,” he mumbles, burrowing deeper into Steve’s embrace and letting his eyes slip shut, grumpy from sleep. “Gimme cantaloupe.” He’s being a little bratty, he knows, but from what Steve has shown earlier, he will obey Bucky’s command. Too good, he is.

The older man’s chest rumbles with a deep chuckle before he reaches out, a few seconds later Bucky can feel something cold against his lips, he opens his mouth and Steve shoves the piece of fruit inside. It’s so fucking good.

“Why won’t anyone feed me cantaloupe?” he hears Tony pout and he opens his eyes to see Bruce take a cube of it and offer it to Tony. The older man’s face lights up and he opens his mouth comically wide, making an “aaah” noise and laughing when Bruce pushes the fruit past his lips. “Thank you, science bro!”

“Anything for my science bro,” Bruce chuckles in his signature gentle tone of voice, and the group shares a laugh while munching away on their food. The tension from before seems to have passed, and Bucky feels his mood get better now that he’s more awake.

“Can I interest you in some beach volleyball later?” Thor suggests and Pepper and Bruce groan while Tony, Natasha and Steve cheer. Sam keeps eating his grapes.

At Bucky’s confused look, Pepper explains. “These people get so damn competitive, it’s crazy.”

“Fear not, my friend,” Thor smiles at Bucky, “when my wonderful fiancée Jane returns from her spa treatment with Ms. Hill, you can join her in watching and leading the cheer!”

Bucky sits up, eyes darting from side to side. “I am… not playing cheerleader.”

“Aw, why not?” Natasha teases, “You look stunning in a mini skirt, Soldier.”

“How do you know that?” Steve asks incredulously, and Bucky’s eyes widen, a blush spreading across his cheeks.

“Shut up, Widow,” he mumbles, and thankfully Tony distracts Steve by asking him who he wants on his team, so Bucky can gather his wits. He doesn’t miss the sharp challenging look Natasha throws his way, but he decides to ignore it.

“By the way, Maria wants to host cocktail night at ours tomorrow. You guys in?” Sam throws in, the others start cheering.

“Yes! Drinks!” Tony pumps his fist in the air while Pepper rolls her eyes next to him.

“You two are coming too, right?” Sam directs the question at Steve and Bucky, but his eyes are trained on the former.

Bucky’s eyes narrow in confusion, a hesitant smile on his lips. “Yeah? Sure, if we’re invited as well?”

“Of course,” Sam mumbles and pointedly looks at Steve, “promise?”

The older man snaps, “Yes, Sam, we’re gonna be there.”

Sam just nods and goes back to the conversation with the others while Steve lets out a frustrated huff, biting into his sandwich. Bucky lays a comforting hand on his bicep and doesn’t say anything.

The game is intense, to say the least. It gets worse when Steve takes his shirt off, when he really get into it, and Bucky can’t stop ogling his sweaty, strong, half naked body. It’s truly like he’s carved out of marble. He has _tits_ , for Christ sake!

“I know what that’s like,” Jane murmurs next to him and he has to move a little closer to hear her, “Having a man that is just so… sexy… It’s hard not to drool at times.” Thor is also shirtless and killing it, his laugh booming through the atmosphere every time he fucks the other team over.

Bucky’s brain stutters at one part of what Jane has said. “Steve’s not my man.”

“Oh?” she turns to him in surprise but only for a second before her eyes are glued on Thor again, “Could’ve fooled me. You look at him like he is. And he does the same.”

Bucky shakes his head vehemently, looking around to make sure nobody’s heard. Pepper is lounging in the sand, reading a book, and Clint is building a sand castle. He doesn’t know where Bruce is. Turning back to Jane, he tells her, “I work for Steve, and he’s a really good friend. That’s all.”

She side eyes him for a moment and says, “Uh-uh.” And that’s the end of that conversation. He hopes he never has to have it again.

Which is why he doesn’t know why he brings it up to Steve later.

He’s laying in bed, scrolling through his phone while Steve is brushing his teeth in the bathroom, when he suddenly blurts out “Jane thinks we’re together.”

His face scrunches up immediately after the words leave his mouth and he’d love to crawl into a ditch and die there, thank you very much, but it’s too late because Steve is already walking into the bedroom, toothbrush hanging out of his mouth and eyes wide as saucers.

“Huh?” his voice is muffled by the toothpaste in his mouth and Bucky chuckles uncomfortably, pulling the blanket higher up his body because he feels far too naked right now, laying there shirtless.

“Yeah…” he says because he has no idea what else to say.

Steve holds up his index finger, motioning for Bucky to wait, and goes back into the bathroom. A few minutes later he returns, mouth toothpaste free, and walks into the bed with a relaxed stance, sitting on top of the comforter.

“How did that conversation happen?” he asks, bemused, but Bucky just feels annoyed. Why isn’t Steve as embarrassed as he is?

“I don’t know, okay!” he throws his arms in the air dramatically, “One minute I was watching you guys play and the next she’s talking about relating to the hardships of having a smoking hot piece of ass as a boyfriend!”

Steve’s eyebrows are so high up they might actually disappear in his hairline. “She said it like that?”

“Kinda,” Bucky huffs, “and when I told her we weren’t together, she looked at me skeptically and continued staring at Thor. I just wanted you to know, because they’re your friends, and I don’t want any rumors floating around and making you uncomfortable.”

A few beats of silence pass, Steve looking at him with a stern but thoughtful expression, and Bucky wants the ground to swallow him whole. What is wrong with him?

“I’m not uncomfortable. Are you?” Bucky shakes his head mutely. “Good. If anyone has any questions, they can come ask me directly. I do not care for rumors and neither do my friends. Jane is lovely, but she can keep minding her business. In the meantime,” Steve shifts so he can get under the covers, laying down to face Bucky, “you need to stop worrying your pretty little head. You’ve

been on edge for a while now, don’t think I haven’t noticed. What’s got you so nervous, Buck?”

Steve is looking at him with so much genuine concern, the kind of sincerity Bucky doesn’t even think he could ever come up with, and Bucky wants to spill it all, right here, right now. He wants to tell him about where they first met, albeit indirectly, about the dumb idea he and Tony came up with, the damn contract, the money he was initially looking forward to but came to despise, the fact that he’s being paid to give the emotional support Steve’s friends should be giving him naturally, and he’s suddenly so angry at them, because can’t they see? Can’t they see how amazing and intelligent and warm and compassionate and wonderful Steve is? If they hadn’t abandoned Steve the way they seemingly did, Tony wouldn’t have had to hire Bucky and maybe they would’ve met in an organic setting; at a diner late at night or at the grocery store in the vegetable section. He wants to tell Steve that, despite how this started, his feelings have become real over time. He sees him as a friend, a mentor, an attractive man, and he could potentially want them to become something else. Something more. His fingers itch with the need to lay his cards on the table, his tongue heavy in his mouth, so he bites it and doesn’t say anything.

Instead he just shrugs.

“Why do your friends keep telling you not to disappear?”

It’s not what Steve expects him to say, judging by the way his eyes widen, but he takes the sudden change in topic in stride. He turns so he’s laying on his back and exhales loudly, thinking his answer over. “Well, because that’s what I tend to do, I guess.” He takes a breather in which he looks at Bucky, looking into his eyes and at his mouth, mustering him. He must be okay with whatever he finds in the younger man’s expression because he continues. “You gotta understand, Buck, when I was younger, it was just my mama and me for a long time. My dad died of a heart attack when I was a baby,

I have no memory of him, and my whole life my mama had to shoulder our burdens alone. I was sick so often and so severely, they didn’t think I was gonna make it more than once.” He exhales shakily, shifting so he can put his hands behind his head. Bucky’s not even breathing properly, quiet as a mouse so he wouldn’t miss a word Steve says. “After she died, I… I couldn’t bear to face the world alone. I shut myself in my apartment and now I ain’t got many friends left, they got

tired of askin’ me to come out with them, they were begging me to even answer my phone… Can’t blame them. I was all alone until I started college and met Peggy, who in turn introduced me to people. It’s hard for me to be out there, even now. I know it ain’t fair, my friends mean well, but I keep to myself a lot and I prefer it that way. It really isn’t anything bad, I’m doing good.”

“They feel like you’re shutting them out.” It’s a conclusion.

Steve glances at him and nods. “They think I’m being self destructive, as Pepper once put it, but that ain’t it.” Steve scoffs humorlessly, a terrible liar.”I just get anxious, ‘s all. I like to stick to what I know, and I know solitude best.”

Bucky nods slowly and shifts closer to Steve so he can put his hand on his clothed chest, rubbing soothingly. The older man shuts his eyes for moment.

“Are you lonely, Steve?” Bucky knows that it’s a heavy question, but he wants Steve to cut the bullshit.

It feels like hours pass in the silence, and Bucky can feel Steve’s heart stutter in his chest so he flattens his hand, sneaks his hand under the shirt and presses it against Steve’s skin. The older man is in his arms in a flash, clutching at him and pulling him close, and Bucky closes his eyes while he hold Steve with as much strength as he can, their bodies touching from head to toe. Steve heaves out a dry sob before he starts shaking his head, pulling away from Bucky.

He looks him in the eyes deeply and says, in all certainty, “I ain’t anymore, Buck, I ain’t. I’ve been coming out my shell more and more, I promise. It’s real good now, I’m happy,” and Bucky can’t help the joyous laugh that escapes his lips, looking at this gorgeous man in front of him, laying himself bare and showing his vulnerability. He swallows down the surge of guilt he feels and moves closer, pressing his lips against Steve’s gently but passionately, trying to convey all the feelings he can’t explain out loud.

Steve gasps but kisses back, pulling Bucky closer with a hand on his lower back, the hand Bucky has in Steve’s hand tightening momentarily. When they pull away it’s because they’re smiling so hard.

“That’s really good, Stevie,” Bucky breathes against his lips, “That’s all I want.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading, comments and kudos are appreciated <3


End file.
